


Shooting Stars

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Marauders' Era, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2005-07-19
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love and betrayal</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Climbing and Soaring

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin fell in love the day Sirius Black scaled nine stories up the castle wall. He knew it in his bones. Remus knew it the moment Sirius glanced over and flashed him that grin, while clinging by his fingertips to the massive stone blocks of the ninth floor. Moony knew it, too. 

It was all so simple. It made perfect sense on so many levels. At that instant, Remus felt that some giant, astral tuning fork had been struck and the discordant strings within his heart had tightened to play the proper chord. His perpetual sense of never having his emotional bearings disappeared as the internal compass of his soul calibrated to true north. He'd found his way home. 

The day started like any other day. It was a perfect, cool autumn morning, with the sky curving overhead in an unbroken arc of blue topaz. The sixth year Gryffindors were on their way to their Care of Magical Creatures class, which they took with the Slytherins. The fifth years of each house were on their way to a shared Herbology. Unfortunately, whenever the students of both houses intermingled on their passage to or from classes, trouble invariably erupted. Sometimes it was simple name-calling and posturing. Sometimes insults were exchanged and muttered challenges were thrown down and accepted, to be decided later in an agreed-upon location far away from the professors' notice. And sometimes the situation would spontaneously combust into fistfights or the hurling of hexes.

This day the rivalry between the two houses took an unexpected turn and gave birth to a new school legend. 

No one could remember what set it off. One minute the students were leaving the building and wending their way to class. The next, there was a small knot of Slytherins and Gryffindors milling around each other, their voices energized with challenges and dares. Remus wasn't really paying attention until he heard Andrew Avery sneer, "Black, you're full of shit. You can't climb up those nine stories without magic and you sure as hell can't do it in 10 minutes."

Remus glanced at his raven-haired friend and recognized the placid, enigmatic expression on Sirius’ face, a disguise that hid the mischievous, rapid-fire activity of his brain. He also noticed the familiar, slightly manic gleam in the blue-gray eyes. "How much money do you have on you?" Sirius asked Andrew in a deceptively mild tone.

Avery glared, his nostrils curling with dislike as if Sirius personified a particularly noxious odor. He then dug into the pockets of his robe. "Two galleons, three knuts."

"Fine. I bet you two galleons and three knuts that I can climb up to the roof of the ninth floor in ten minutes." 

"Without using any magic!" Evan Rosier's voice chimed in.

"Agreed," Sirius said quietly.

Severus Snape stared disdainfully at Sirius. "When do you propose pulling this little stunt, Black?" 

"We have time before class starts. Why not now?" Sirius said, with an almost disinterested glance at the rather imposing façade of the castle.

A chorus of voices broke out, the Slytherins scoffing and jeering, the Gryffindors supportive and cheering. 

"This I've got to see-"

"You can do it, Sirius."

"If we're lucky, he'll fall and break his neck."

"If he falls, hopefully he'll land on a couple of you creeps."

Remus stood with his closest friends observing the other students. Lily Evans glanced nervously at James Potter and said in a low voice, "James, maybe you should stop him."

James just grinned at her, leaning lightly on his broom. He was planning to spend some time practicing a new Quidditch move in their free hour before lunch. Sirius was daring a feat that would add additional luster to the Marauders' myth, assuming he didn't kill himself in the process. It was shaping up to be a good day. "It's okay, Lil. He's been climbing the cliffs in Cornwall for years. He'll be fine. Just look at the stone. You can see there are all sorts of cracks and ledges to hang onto."

Lily shook her head, realizing her boyfriend was in full Marauder mode, prepared to aid and abet Sirius’ latest risky challenge. She took out her wand, thinking about how quickly she could conjure up a huge pillow should Sirius lose his grip on the stone.

Peter Pettigrew also looked apprehensively at the looming wall. "But, James, look up. It’s really smooth on the upper floors. What if he can't find anything to hold onto?"

"You can hold onto these, if you wouldn't mind," Sirius interjected, handing Peter his robes, shirt, school tie, and wand. "Thanks for your concern, but I know there will be handholds and toeholds up there. James, will you fly up afterwards and give me a lift down from the roof?"

"Sure.” He added loudly so the entire crowd could hear. “And since Sirius won’t use magic to help himself climb, none of you lot will use magic to interfere with him!”

Sirius stood a little apart from the crowd, eyeing the castle and planning his route. He was dressed in blue jeans, sneakers and a white tee-shirt. He looked good, from the crown of his shaggy head, down his well-toned back to the curves of his nicely firm ass. Remus couldn't help but notice that most of the girls in the group had moved so that their taller, male classmates did not block their view of Sirius. He also realized that the group of students had increased in number as members of other years and houses had somehow materialized. The student telepathic network was evidently operating at peak efficiency. Allan Pierce, a Hufflepuff seventh-year, pulled out a watch. "I'll be the timer, alright?" 

"Tell me when to start, Allan," Sirius requested.

"On your mark…get set…GO!" 

A roar rose from the crowd as Sirius sprinted up to the castle wall and leapt surprisingly high, one foot pushing off the wall to give him the additional lift he needed to grab onto a large fissure in the rocks. He hung for a second until his feet found two small toeholds, and then he was off, climbing as easily as a spider, all long legs and tanned, muscled arms. His path slanted upwards to the right until he came to the corner of the wall. The ragged edges of the stone were as good as a ladder and Sirius quickly climbed straight up until he was level with the third story. Then the stone smoothed out and the tall Gryffindor was forced to head back onto the flat surface of the building.

Remus glanced anxiously at the daunting height looming above Sirius' head. It didn't seem like there were many indentations or crevices for him to use, but he still made steady progress up the wall. Unfortunately, Sirius passed by Professor Clark's office just as the teacher was watering some plants on his windowsill. The astonished professor stuck his head out the window, craning to look up at the lithe figure scrabbling along the stone above him.

"Mr. Black! What the hell are you doing!?" 

"Climbing, Professor," came the laconic reply.

"Well, climb back down this instant!"

"That would be dangerous without a rope, sir."

Clark sputtered ineffectually for a moment, then shot back into his office like an extremely irate Jack-In-the-Box going in reverse. Within moments, the Professor burst onto the scene, glaring at the noisy students. Almost simultaneously he was joined by Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Kettleburn, who had noticed a large crowd milling about where a large crowd shouldn't have been. Clark began fuming to Dumbledore. Remus’ keen ears caught some of the stream of words pouring from between the Professor’s rigid lips. Words like "bad example," "impressionable," "fall," and "death." He couldn't hear Dumbledore's response.

Sirius was well past the half-way point when Allan Pierce's voice boomed out, "Five minutes!" His progress was noticeably slower now. Sirius didn't appear tired or in trouble; he just seemed to be taking greater care in selecting his perches. Remus watched as Sirius placed his left foot along a crack. He shifted his weight and moved his right foot, and suddenly the rock gave way and Sirius was left dangling by his fingertips. The crowd gasped and some of the girls screamed. Sirius didn't panic. Quickly and surely he found other spots to place his feet, and continued his assault up the castle face. 

In fact, Sirius was so caught up in his activity, he had forgotten about the crowd below him. All that mattered to him was the challenge of the castle, looking up, plotting his course, planning his moves several steps ahead of where he actually was, as if this was more a mental puzzle than a physical one. He loved to test himself, to measure his skills and brains and instincts against the unexpected. 

Sirius was answering a challenge within himself, and by doing so he declared his own freedom - freedom from the rules and strictures his parents used to stifle and bind him. They had selected a preordained path for his life and all their energies focused on forcing him to follow it. They didn’t understand why he rebelled. They didn’t understand him, no matter how much he tried to explain. Why wouldn’t they listen? Why couldn’t they simply hear him? But, none of that mattered now.

The sky was so brilliant. The sun caressed his back with a pleasing warmth. He smelled the dry mustiness coming off the stone, felt the grit beneath his fingers, and heard his own steady breathing and the scrape of his shoes finding purchase. He knew he would win this game, not just the bet. The bet had been nothing more than an excuse to set it all in motion. He was going to climb the castle. This was a moment so perfect he knew that he'd remember it for the rest of his life. For these few minutes, Sirius Black was purely happy.

"James, will you lend me your broom?" Remus asked. James willingly handed it over and Remus kicked off. He flew in a gentle, rising curve out toward the lake and then circling back to approach Sirius from the side. He kept well away, not wanting to be accused of interference and also not wanting to startle Sirius with his sudden appearance. But he had to see his friend’s face. He suspected that those handsome features would be alight with a combination of mischief and happiness. And maybe that other expression, the one Remus privately thought of as his "Eureka" face, the one that bloomed across his olive skin and lit up his mesmerizing pale eyes. The eager, vibrant expression that indicated inspiration had struck and another knotty assignment was about to go down in defeat. Remus wanted to see that face, because he liked the way it made him catch his breath.

Sirius caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Remus on James' broom, his eyes lit with a fierce, golden glow, watching with a combination of worry and some other emotion. Excitement? Enthusiasm? Desire? 'Desire? I wish.' Sirius thought. He flashed Remus his best smile as he expertly climbed the last few feet to the top of the wall. Hauling himself onto the roof, Sirius vaguely heard Pierce's voice yelling above the shouting crowd, "Nine minutes, thirty-eight seconds!"

Sirius stood still, shaking out his arms and allowing his breathing to slow back to normal. Remus landed next to him, hopping off the broom and grinning, all the while trying to ignore the pounding of his heart and the stirring of the wolf deep inside as Moony twitched, sensing he was near something he very much wanted.

Resolutely pushing Moony back into the recesses of his being, Remus declared, "That was brilliant, although Dumbledore is waiting for you, and so is some sort of detention, I'm sure."

"Well, it was bound to happen, Remus. I've wanted to do that for a long, long time."

Sirius stepped closer, his black hair a startling contrast to the azure sky. There was one more thing he wanted to do that would make any detention worthwhile. 

Remus felt his body tingle at Sirius' proximity. He knew he was falling into those beautiful eyes, and he would spend his life swimming through their depths. He had to say something. He smiled and asked, "Do you always do whatever you want to do?"

Sirius considered for a moment. "Not always. But, I've wanted to do this for a long time, too."

He swiftly tilted his head and kissed Remus full on the lips. The werewolf’s mouth dropped open in surprise. The broom clattered to the roof unnoticed. Remus pulled back, staring at his slightly taller friend. Then he grabbed at Sirius' shoulders, feeling the tee-shirt slightly damp with sweat and he eagerly sought Sirius' lips with a hungry, clumsy intensity that surprised them both. Remus felt strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. 

"MR. BLACK! MR.LUPIN!" roared Dumbledore.

The boys sprang apart, startled, only to realize that the Headmaster was using a Sonorous charm to amplify his voice. "GET ON THAT BROOM AND COME DOWN HERE IMMEDIATELY!"

"Now we're in for it," Remus mumbled, scrambling to get the broom. He mounted it and, glancing over his shoulder, watched Sirius fling one long leg over the broom and scoot up close behind him. He was still smiling. "Let's go." They kicked off. Remus was acutely aware of Sirius' hands resting lightly on his waist. He briefly considered putting the broom through some sharp turns, just to make those long fingers tighten their grip on him, but he didn’t think James would appreciate any potential broom abuse.

The crowd of students had almost disappeared. They could see their classmates far across the grounds gathering near Professor Kettleburn. Dumbledore regarded them expressionlessly. "Mr. Lupin, you are not in any trouble. You merely provided the transportation with which to return Mr. Black to the ground where he belongs. Mr. Black, you will come to my office after your Magical Creatures class. By then I will have decided what to do with you this time."

"Yes, sir."

"Off with you both!"

Remus couldn't concentrate on what Kettleburn was saying about the different varieties of kelpies. His eyes kept darting to look at Sirius. A thrill tingled through his innards as he realized that Sirius was distracted, too. Several times their eyes met, and they quickly looked away. Remus was sure that the whole class must be aware that something was going on, but no one seemed to notice. 

The usually studious werewolf found himself daydreaming. He remembered the very moment Sirius entered his life…..

~ **~** ~ **~** The first years milled about, waiting for Professor McGonagall to start the Sorting Ceremony. Remus stood stock-still, trying to hide his nervousness. What if all these people suddenly discovered his secret? His eyes closed tightly as he fought to smother the vision of hordes of black-robed students screaming at him, their faces twisted with revulsion, throwing things, punching him as he struggled to flee. A quiet voice suddenly murmured in his ear, warm breath ghosting against his cheek. "Don't worry. All you have to do is put the Sorting Hat on your head.”

Remus glanced up at a tall, gangly, black-haired boy whose ears and nose were too big for his face and whose protruding Adam’s apple bobbed under his skin like a trapped bird. But, what struck Remus momentarily dumb were the most unusual eyes he had ever seen. The irises were like flowers whose individual petals were either pale blue or gray, all mixed together, with thin veins of black radiating out from the pupils. A somewhat goofy, lopsided grin suddenly lit the angular face, putting Remus at ease. “If I can believe my sister," the boy continued, nodding his head towards a beautiful teen at the Ravenclaw table, "the Hat will have a conversation with you inside your head and then tell you what House you’re in. And that's it."

Then, even as Remus opened his mouth to reply, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out, "Alcourt, Lewis." A chubby boy with wispy brown hair guardedly approached the stool. He timidly placed the Hat on his head. After only a few seconds, the Hat shouted out “Hufflepuff!” Lewis Alcourt scampered off to the cheering Hufflepuff table.

“Black, Sirius.”

Remus watched as the skinny boy walked calmly and surely to the stool. His flowing black robe didn’t hide the abrupt angles and sharp edges of his spindly form. Remus half expected to see the points of the boy’s elbows scythe through his sleeves. Indeed, the robe made him look like some sort of overly tall, emaciated heron. By rights the boy should have tripped over his own big feet, or dropped the Hat from his over-large hands. But, he didn’t. He moved with surprising grace, in spite of his ungainly appearance. And he seemed completely at ease, not at all nervous or self-conscious at being the center of attention. Right before he placed the Hat on his head, he grinned at another black-haired boy, who was nervously fidgeting at the edge of the throng of first years. After several long moments of silence, the Hat shouted out "Gryffindor!" and the coltish boy smoothly rose to his feet and joined his new housemates.

The Sorting moved quickly and, almost before he realized it, Remus was sitting on the stool. The Hat slipped over his face. 'I wonder if it knows,' Remus thought, and was startled to get a reply. 

‘Knows what? That you're a werewolf? Of course I know.’ The Hat seemed inordinately amused by this.

Remus gulped. 'Please don't say anything.'

‘Calm yourself, child. All I do is poke around and decide what house you'd best fit into. Whether you end up eating one of your housemates is not my concern. Where do you think you should go?’

'I think I'm studious enough for Ravenclaw.'

‘Hmff! Wrong! You have a point, but that's not the house for you.’

Remus' stomach dropped. 'You're going to sort me into Slytherin, aren't you?'

‘Wrong again! And, here I thought you were a smart boy!’ The Hat chortled, but then its tone turned serious. ‘Dark creature you may be, but I sense a purity in your heart and mind that would not thrive in Slytherin. Add that to the courage you have already shown, that one so young should deal so valiantly with the stigma of lycanthropy, and the only place I can put you is "Gryffindor!"

With a sigh of relief, Remus swept the Hat off and hurried to the Gryffindor table. He slid into a seat across from the tall, black-haired boy, who smiled at him, and extended his hand. "Hello, Remus Lupin. I'm Sirius Black." Remus found himself grinning back, and eagerly shook the proffered hand. A friendship was born. **~** ~ **~** ~

And now, it looked like that firm friendship might blossom into something more.


	2. Reminiscences and Recriminations

Finally, Magical Creatures class ended. The Slytherins left, grumbling, to endure an hour of History of Magic. James and Lily headed off to the Quidditch field. Peter hurried towards the library to meet up with his Hufflepuff girlfriend. The rest of the Gryffindors headed back to the castle. 

Remus glanced quickly at Sirius and then away. "I thought I'd wait for you while you go talk to Dumbledore, if that's okay." he said shyly. His eyes stole another peek at Sirius' face, hoping he wasn’t reading too much into their kiss. His stomach fluttered when he saw a quick smile spread across his friend's lips. "Good idea, Moony."

Remus slipped into a sitting room across the hall from the stairs that lead to Dumbledore's office. He paced idly back and forth, his mind replaying the scene on the roof over and over. He still felt the soft pressure of Sirius' lips against his own and the strong embrace of Sirius' arms around his body. Or so he thought. Actually, he’d like to experience that kiss again, just to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. He perched at the edge of one of the chairs, but nervously sprang up again after only a few seconds to resume his peregrinations around the room. His thoughts once again turned to his earliest days at Hogwarts….

~ **~** ~ **The first few weeks of school passed by in a blur, but with each moment, Remus felt more at ease as he discovered more about his roommates. James Potter, intelligent, crackling with energy, the human Fizzing Whizzbee, as Sirius called him. Their mothers had remained close since their own days at Hogwarts, so the two boys had been friends almost from the cradle. James came from an old, wealthy wizarding family and had a number of distinguished ancestors who had risen to positions of influence within the Ministry of Magic. His passion for Quidditch made others think that he couldn't possibly be a decent student. How wrong they were. James was blessed with the ability to remember and catalog facts in his head without resorting to rote memorization. Academics came to him as easily as athletics.**

Peter Pettigrew was short and somewhat bumbling. He had no intuitive sense of magic; he often needed explanations and practice in order to get things right. Remus thought Peter tended to over-compensate for that by displaying an alarming tendency to take on more than he could handle, but he had the courage, or foolhardiness, to see things through. For instance, in their first week Peter had taken a wrong turn on his way to Transfiguration and ran into a pack of third-year Slytherins. Thrilled by the happy accident that had placed a potential victim in their hands, they started picking on him. Rather than turn tail and run, he drew his wand and challenged his tormentors. He managed to survive until Professor Clark intervened. Peter emerged from the altercation a bit roughed up and with his hair transformed into grass, but the Slytherins all ended up with detentions. Peter felt it was a fair trade-off. It was also the start of his reputation of being a completely loose cannon whose actions could never be accurately predicted. 

Sirius Black was quiet and reserved. Some people thought him aloof, but Remus felt it was more that he was very self-contained. He rarely offered information about himself and never suffered from any extremes of emotion. Outwardly, at least, although Remus sometimes sensed deep currents of emotions that he was sure Sirius wanted to hide. He was as smart as James, and disturbed some professors with his penchant for asking questions that were frequently much too advanced for their level of coursework. Sirius’ beanpole appearance marked him as a potential weakling, and in those early days he was the target of a certain amount of attempted hazing from various older bullies. They made the mistake of assuming he was clumsy and uncoordinated. They soon discovered their mistake. Sirius was quite capable of defending himself and his friends with a bent for imaginative charms and hexes. And he had a wand hand with the quick reflexes and deadly accuracy of a striking cobra. Remus also noted that Sirius had an unexpected streak of recklessness. The more that he put his limbs, if not his actual life, in danger, the happier he was.

It struck Remus one evening as they were all getting ready for bed that he still had no information about Sirius' family, other than that his sister, Ara, was a seventh-year Ravenclaw. Remus didn't even know if the Blacks were a wizarding or mixed family or what line of business they were in. So he asked. 

An odd look flashed across Sirius' face and Remus immediately regretted opening his mouth. He sensed he had trespassed in some way. The look was almost instantly replaced by Sirius' normally impassive expression. He looked evenly at Remus and said, "My family is in the jewelry business."

That brought an explosive snort from James. "Sirius, you make it sound like the Blacks sit around the kitchen table sliding beads on bits of string! Give him the whole story!"

Remus noted the somewhat sharp glance Sirius fired at James. But, his expression was calm as he turned back to Remus. "My family owns several jewelry stores called Les Etoiles," he said casually.

Remus' brows shot up. Peter yelped.

Les Etoiles was the most exclusive jeweler in the wizard world, with locations in London, Paris, Rome and New York. The legendary craftsmanship and breathtaking beauty of their jewelry was simply without peer. Remus remembered the fascination he felt the first time he had looked at the dazzlingly displays of rings and pendants and bracelets in the window of the store in Diagon Alley. His mother told him that only the finest designers worked there and they had to be very talented in charms, as all the jewelry had magical properties. It took months of complicated spellwork to complete most items at Les Etoiles. 

Remus had been speechless with amazement when he saw the pieces of jewelry with changing images. One large pendant showed a tree against an onyx background, its trunk and branches of gold, its flowers of rose quartz and rubies. Suddenly, the tree transformed and the flowers disappeared, only to be replaced by leaves of emerald and peridot. "Mum, did you see that?" Remus gasped in surprise. "It changed." He pointed to the pendant and again, it changed. Now the leaves glittered with the autumnal hues of garnet and carnelian and tiger-eye and citrine. Some of the leaves even floated off the branches to gather at the base of the tree. Eagerly, Remus waited for the last transformation. The brightly colored leaves vanished, leaving behind an icy glaze of diamonds and pearls twinkling along the wintry branches. 

Next to the pendant was a bracelet, its stones depicting the thick foliage of a forest. Winking in and out of the trees were tiny, jeweled birds who would flit from branch to branch, making their way along the bracelet and disappearing entirely from time to time. A lightening-fast hematite squirrel scampered half-seen through the branches. Remus had been utterly entranced. 

Now, looking at Sirius, Remus realized that his quiet friend was definitely pureblood and probably quite wealthy, although neither fact seemed particularly important to Sirius. Come to think of it, this son of famous jewelers was the only one of them who never wore jewelry, not even a watch. Odd, that. 

Peter, gazing at Sirius with something akin to awe on his face, said, "Wow, I've been in your London store. Everything was so beautiful. Will you inherit that?" Realization spread across his face. "And, can you get us good deals when we want to buy engagement rings?"

James and Remus chuckled at Peter's impressionable reaction. Sirius smiled faintly. "Yes, when the time comes I can probably get you a good deal. Assuming, of course, that my parents are still speaking to me after I finally convince them that I have no intention of joining the family business." He stepped around Peter and climbed into his bed, immediately closing his curtains.

Peter glanced guiltily at James and muttered, "Did I say something wrong?" 

"Nah, it's okay. It’s just that Sirius and his parents don’t see eye to eye about his future.” ~~ **~** ~*~

The flow of Remus' memories halted as his acute hearing caught the sound of the moving staircase. Opening the door a crack, he saw Sirius just as he stepped off the stairs.

"Pssst." Glancing toward the sound, Sirius spied a bright eye and toasty-brown hair through the chink in the door and sped across the hallway. Once in the room he stopped short, his eyes caressing Remus' face. /Pellucid./ The perfect word to describe the warm, smooth skin of the young man before him. He wanted to commit that delicate face to memory. Deceivingly delicate, as Sirius well knew. Remus might look slight and malleable, but he had a core of adamantine. Studious, intelligent with an indefinable sylvan beauty that seemed the polar opposite of the lethally dangerous, powerfully beautiful wolf that he turned into once a month. The contrast had intrigued and beckoned Sirius from the moment he first discovered the wolf. 

Now irresistibly drawn to Remus, he stepped closer until there was barely a sliver of light between them. Remus' body leaned towards him, yielding to a similar attraction. "Umm," Remus tried to revive his vocal chords. His lips felt dry, so he quickly licked them. "What punishment is Dumbledore giving you?"

Sirius' keen gaze focused like a hawk on the darting, moist, pink flesh. He forced his eyes back up to Remus'. "One hundred points from Gryffindor. No Hogsmeade weekends for the rest of the year. Detention up until Christmas with Kettleburn, whenever he needs some assistance, and expulsion if I do any more climbing on school grounds. Do that again."

"That’s rather harsh, isn’t it?" Remus frowned slightly. "Do what again?" 

Sirius smiled, his eyes glittering. In a voice suddenly husky, he said, "This." His lean, strong fingers slid into the hair on either side of Remus’ head. With their mouths barely touching, Sirius slowly drew the tip of his tongue along the shorter boy’s lips. Remus gasped slightly, his mouth opening in an involuntary invitation to more intimate, slithery explorations. A breathy moan escaped him at the feeling of Sirius' inquisitive tongue sliding past his lips, tracing a sinuous path into the wet cavern of his mouth. 

Sirius had never savored a mouth so luscious and sweet. He was captivated by the sensation of Remus' tongue entwined with his own, the soft, eager lips pressed against his. This was a slice of heaven, these moments spent kissing, tasting, learning the liquid silk feel of Remus' tongue and the inside of his mouth, encouraging the invasion of his own mouth, thrilling to the sharp, insistent teeth that soon gently fastened on his lower lip. Sirius could have abandoned himself for hours in uncovering all the secrets of this mouth. 

A long, searing kiss ended with Sirius sucking gently on Remus' lip, feeling the warm puffs of breath against his face. Remus wanted more, needed muscle and bone against his body. His hands wandered down Sirius' sides and around his back to hug him in a tight embrace. Their feet shifted as Sirius stepped back towards the couch. They sank onto it in an awkward tangle of limbs, mouths still pressed together. Remus felt a hand drift down his back to cup his buttocks, its touch curious and possessive at the same time. He grabbed a handful of black hair, a thick, silken rope against his palm. 

The sound of sneezing interrupted them. The doorknob rattled and a sniffling Filch came in, stuffing a handkerchief into his pocket. He stopped short, glaring at the two flushed teenagers sitting side by side on the couch. "What are you doing in here? Shouldn't you be on your way to lunch?" His eyes darted around the room, a look of deep suspicion in them, wondering what magical trap these two had laid for him. "Well?" Filch barked.

Sirius looked up at him and answered quietly. "I wanted to talk privately to Remus about my visit to the Headmaster's office."

"You! You're the one who's been climbing up the castle! Would have saved us all a lot of trouble if you fell off! Now, get out of here!" 

The boys left, and if Filch noticed the blush on their cheeks or the odd hitch in their gaits, he made no mention of it.

Afternoon classes were interminable. Remus and Sirius were so distracted by each other’s proximity in Arithmancy that Professor Pegler came close to sending Remus off to the Hospital wing, thinking that her best pupil must be suffering from some sort of illness, as he couldn’t seem to answer even the simplest question correctly. 

Transfiguration followed Arithmancy. They had no sooner settled into their seats, unable to keep their eyes and barely able to keep their hands off each other, when a fuming Professor McGonagall banged into the room. The boys’ cloud of passionate befuddlement was blown away in tatters by the power of her angry aura. 

“On your feet, Mr. Black!” He rose slowly from his chair. Eyes blazing with fury, she stared at Sirius and proceeded to dress him down in front of the entire class.

“Quite an impressive stunt you pulled this morning, wasn’t it?” She seethed. “How is it that you’ve once again put your thirst for attention ahead of any consideration for your classmates or for your House, Mr. Black?”

“I wasn’t looking for attention, Professor. I accepted a dare to do something not expressly forbidden by school rules.”

Nostrils flaring, she snapped. “Don’t be disingenuous with me, young man! School rules don’t expressly forbid you to set yourself on fire, either. Would you accept that dare?”

Before he could reply, she steamrolled on. “I think Headmaster Dumbledore was very lenient in only deducting one hundred house points. If it had been up to me, I would have deducted far more for your unforgivably stupid display of bravado. What were you thinking?”

“I’ve been rock climbing for years, Professor. I know what I’m doing. There was no danger-“

She cut him off, her voice dripping with scorn. “And how will your climbing knowledge protect some impressionable second-year who decides to emulate you? Someone who does not have all your vast wisdom and boundless experience? How will your self-centered conceit help that student when he or she ends up in a broken heap on the ground? Have you thought of that, Mr. Black?”

“Professor, I’ve never tried to get people to follow -”

“Am I to believe you are unaware of all the times other students have followed your lead? Spare me, please! It’s apparent to me that you thrive on causing as much mayhem as possible, and if it gets others in trouble, or serves to upset your parents, then so much the better!”

Sirius shook his head slowly, but did not flinch from her gaze.

“As a sixth-year you have a responsibility to provide a good example to the younger students. You consistently shirk that responsibility by instead concentrating on your famous pranks. You are much too clever for your own good, Mr. Black, and someday real life will throw your cleverness back in your handsome face and laugh while you try in vain to pick up the pieces.”

Sirius still kept silent, but McGonagall was not yet done with him. “You are a very fortunate, privileged boy, with every advantage that birth and family can give you. Yet you waste your intelligence and your skills with this sort of perverse behavior. Will your parents be proud of this exploit?”

“I’m sure my parents will be suitably appalled.” Sirius’ voice was icily calm.

“Do not make the mistake of provoking me any further, Mr. Black!” McGonagall glared fiercely at him. “Never has any student of mine been more of a disappointment! Sit down!”

Remus felt a cold hand twisting his innards as McGonagall lashed out. He felt so bad for Sirius. Dumbledore had already meted out harsh punishment and Sirius had received some abusive comments from his housemates about the point deduction. McGonagall could have yelled at him privately, instead of trying to embarrass him in front of everyone. Remus’ eyes darted to Sirius face. Although his posture was unbowed and his expression impassive, Sirius’ cheeks were aflame with a furious blush. Surreptitiously, Remus reached for his hand under the desk and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Their fingers entwined briefly before they had to concentrate on their lesson.

Finally, class was over and they got away from McGonagall’s gimlet-eyed stare. Sirius was off to Muggle Studies and Remus to Runes. Sirius wanted desperately to feel Remus’ comforting arms around him, but there were too many people in the hall. However, they discovered that one good thing had come out of McGonagall’s stinging rebuke. Sirius had earned a lot of sympathy from his classmates. Remus started off for Runes feeling better. By dinnertime, the entire school would know that McGonagall had ripped Sirius a new asshole, and even more people would be sympathetic to him, except for the Slytherins, but who cared about them?

After starting his Runes class with a surprise quiz, Professor Clark gave his students a choice of several different problems to research. They were allowed to use class time to go to the Library and begin. Remus decided to do an investigation into the similarities between Nordic and Celtic runes. However, once he collected several books from the shelves and curled up at his favorite table, the lines and symbols he looked at kept rearranging themselves into visions of long, black hair, or straight, elegant fingers. He found himself thinking of one night last year. It was the night he first dared hope that there might be a chance for something more than friendship with Sirius, the only night they had slept in the same bed….


	3. A Surprising, but Welcome Revelation

~ **~** ~ **~** ~The dance had turned out to be rather fun, even though Remus never felt entirely at ease in those social situations. Oh, his date had been pleasant, and they had actually danced. She didn't cling to him all night, so he was able to spend some time laughing and joking with his friends, too. However, at the end of the evening when he gave her a chaste kiss goodnight, she had pressed against him, obviously wanting more than he felt able to give. He had politely disentangled himself, and with a gentle "Sleep well," made his escape back to his dorm room.

That's why he never felt quite right. He didn't want to snog or shag any of the girls in his year. He didn't want to snog or shag girls, period. It had taken a while, but fifteen-year-old Remus Lupin had finally come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to boys. What complicated matters was the additional realization that he was very attracted to Sirius. Gangly, skinny Sirius, whose body over the past year had started to fill out, with flesh and muscle overlaying the once bony frame. Whose short hair was now worn down to his shoulders in a flowing tumble of black satin waves. Whose young face was slowly being sculpted into the planes and angles of a handsome man. Strong, intelligent Sirius, with eyes that could be cold as a blizzard or warm as the spring sky. 

Remus glanced at his roommates' empty beds. Peter and James had been going steady for a while, so it was no surprise that they were still out. Remus smiled. /Probably snogging like crazy somewhere./ And Sirius? Well, it was hard to tell what went on in his mind when it came to girls. He had always been popular because of his intelligence and quietly sly sense of humor, along with a peculiar coltish charm. Now that his new-found good looks entered the equation, he had to fend the Hogwarts' female population off with a stick. But, Remus had the impression that Sirius, too, usually kept the girls at arms' length, never going out with anyone more than once. The more Remus thought about it, the more he saw the coolness that seemed to envelop Sirius like a cloak whenever he was with a girl. 

Remus reflected on that thought. 

The door opened quietly, and one of the missing roommates came in, moving soundlessly across the room. Peering intently, Remus saw that it was Sirius. The tall boy undressed quickly in the dark, and Remus heard rather than saw him slide into bed. 

"You don’t have to be so quiet." Remus said.

"You mean you're lying there awake and you didn't seize the chance to read a couple of chapters of "The History of Goblins" for Binns' class?"

Remus ignored his friend's teasing. "The others out getting into trouble?"

Sirius snickered slightly. "Getting into each others' pants is more like it."

"Sirius Black, are you implying that someone in this room is having sex tonight?" Remus exclaimed in mock shock.

Sirius remained silent for a long moment.

"I know for sure that someone in this room had sex tonight," Sirius replied calmly.

Remus sat up in bed and stared closely through the gloom at the figure in the next bed. He could see the dark head propped up against a pillow but could barely make out Sirius' profile. 

"Are you saying that you had sex tonight?" 

Sirius sighed. "Yes."

Remus considered the less-than-enthusiastic response. "You don't seem very happy about it. Madeleine was all over you at the dance; I'd have thought she'd have been more than happy to...you know…" Remus stuttered to a stop, suddenly overcome with embarrassment.

Sirius didn't respond for such a long time that Remus decided he'd pushed too far. He slid back under his covers. 

So low that only Remus' sharp werewolf ears could hear, Sirius finally murmured, "I wasn't with Maddy."

Remus sat back up. The troubled tone in Sirius' voice was very out of place. 

"What's bothering you? Were you with another girl, and Maddy's going to find out about it?"

Remus heard a slight whisper of sheets as Sirius twitched restlessly in his bed.

"Remus, I…There’s something I want to tell…Oh, never mind."

The bewilderment in his friend's voice kindled an unexpected, but comforting, protective response in Remus. Sirius didn’t often open up and put his emotions on display to anyone but James, so it made Remus feel good that Sirius needed his support tonight. He got up and came over to sit at the edge of Sirius’ bed, right near his hip. 

"You can tell me anything. I swear I won't say a word, not even to James."

Sitting so close, Remus couldn't help but notice that Sirius wasn't wearing a pajama top. He probably wasn't wearing the bottoms, either. Remus opened his mouth to say more but his breath caught in his throat at unfamiliar scent rising from his friend's skin. It was strange and musky and deeply arousing. He bit his tongue to stifle a feral growl. He leaned a little closer, propping his hand against the mattress near Sirius' other hip, arching over him, trying to drink in more of that heady odor. Suddenly, Remus was gripped by a visceral longing to strip the confining sheets away from his friend's body and press his face against Sirius' chest, to devour that aroma, to slide his lips down along the warm skin, down across the flat stomach and abdomen, down until he reached the hidden source of his desire. With an effort, he focused his attention back on Sirius' face, which was a little clearer to see, now that he was nearer. Remus decided to sit quietly and wait, determinedly ignoring the heat flooding his groin.

Finally, Sirius spoke. "I was with Tim Hurley."

Remus was stunned. He'd had no idea and now, out of the blue, Sirius was telling him this?

"Oh," he said, silently cursing the disappearance of his customary articulateness. He couldn’t read Sirius' expression in the darkness, so again he decided to wait. The silence between them lengthened. Finally, Sirius drew away from Remus to sit up against the farthest edge of his headboard, with his legs curled up in front of him. 

"I'm sorry Remus. You're uncomfortable with this. I shouldn't have said anything. Can we just forget it?"

His voice was even and cool and carefully modulated. It was the same voice he used to try to evade blame for some prank, the eminently reasonable tone he used to logically explain to a professor why he could not possibly be responsible for flooding the Slytherin bathrooms. That voice could still con some of the professors some of the time, but it cut no ice with Remus.

"I'm not uncomfortable, Sirius. Just…surprised, that's all. I never got the impression that you were gay. Unless what you're telling me is that you were just experimenting tonight…"

Remus continued to peer through shadows, wishing he could get a clearer look at his friend. At the same time, he tried to remain loose and relaxed, so perhaps Sirius would sense from his body language that he was not disturbed by this surprising revelation. Sirius remained silent, compelling Remus to keep talking.

"Are **you** okay with this, Sirius? You don't seem particularly ecstatic about tonight." A sudden thought struck him. "Did he force you?"

That surprised Sirius into speaking. "No! Of course not! I wanted him as much as he wanted me. Why do you think he'd try to force me?" 

"Your reticence. You wanted to tell me earlier and now you seem to want to stop talking about it. I can't help but think your experience with Hurley wasn't all that good." Silence again. Remus decided to change tactics. "Then there's the age difference. He’s seventeen, but you're only fifteen. You're not at the age of consent."

Sirius snorted with suppressed laughter. "Oh, Moony, leave it to you to drag out the legal arguments. I'm almost sixteen. I'm certainly not going to start screaming about statutory rape, so Tim has nothing to worry about." He added wryly, " Besides, I wasn't sixteen in July, either."

"What does **that** mean?"

"It means that Hurley wasn't the first. And he's out of the running for second and third, for that matter."

Remus felt like he had been catapulted into a parallel universe. Surely this person he was talking to was the Parallel Sirius, not the Sirius he'd spent most of the last 5 years with. The Sirius he knew could no longer walk down the hallways at Hogwarts without several girls for company. They revolved around him like planets around the sun. Although, if this truly was the way Sirius felt….Remus felt a twinge of hope.

"So, you’re telling me you're not experimenting? You're really gay?"

"Yes."

"I confess I'm still a little surprised. But I **do not** have a problem with this." /Not at all./ "When did you figure this out?"

"I've known for a long time. I finally decided to do something about it this past summer during the Black family’s excruciatingly ponderous vacation in Paris. All so formal and stiff and proper. God, it was awful. Really, **how** is it possible to make Paris seem dull and stifling? We must have some sort of genetic predisposition to throttling the joy and spontaneity out of life. Cultivate the right people. Wear the right clothes. Whittle life down and measure it out in carats and galleons.” 

Remus heard the unhappy undercurrent that belied Sirius’ wry tone. But, before he could reply, Sirius continued. “I felt so trapped, so claustrophobic. So, I would slip out of the hotel late at night and stroll along the Seine, or find a fountain to sit by, or try to sneak into a club, anything to get away from them for a while, just so I could **breathe**. And one night I met Paul and we…Remus, how much of this do you want to hear?"

/Everything. Tell me everything. Every, little detail./ "As much as you want to tell me, Sirius." Remus was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. "Tell me about Paul. Is he someone special?"

"No. He came on to me, I acquiesced, and we had sex." Sirius summarized succinctly. 

Again, Remus felt the ground shift underneath him. "Just like that? No romance, no affection, just sex?"

When it came to problem-solving, Sirius could sometimes be astringently clinical. While that made him a great Potions partner, Remus found it unnerving when he applied the same cold precision to personal issues.

"Paul was about 25 years old, unattached and looking for sex. He didn’t want a boyfriend; he just wanted to shag. I let him know I was interested, inexperienced and in the neighborhood for a few weeks. That was all he needed. The idea of teaching a virgin all about sex appealed to him. He liked the idea of playing the master. He couldn't wait to break me in." 

Sweaty thoughts of dominance, control and submission tumbled through Remus' mind. He felt himself harden as he pictured Sirius naked, in bed, obeying the whispered commands of his lover, curving into wanton positions, wrapping his long limbs around a mature man's body, willingly submitting to a stranger's touch. Remus swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. 

Sirius’ controlled voice drew more pictures in Remus’ mind. "I wanted him to…do everything to me. I wanted to feel the weight of his body on top of me. I wanted him pushing deep inside me. I wanted him to fuck me hard. I wanted to taste his come and watch my cock disappear in his mouth and…” He stopped abruptly and drew in an audibly shaky breath. “We met almost every night, except for one rainy day when I went to his flat and we spent most of the day in bed. And one Sunday I was with the family at a restaurant and I saw Paul sitting alone at another table. We slipped out back into the alley a couple of times. He told me I had a natural aptitude for some things." 

Remus feared his head would explode if Sirius kept revealing his secrets. The visions in his mind stoked the overheated furnace of his desire. He worried that Sirius sensed his arousal. Remus forced himself to focus.

"And that was it? A fling?"

"Yeah. It was simply a matter of convenience to both of us. That's all."

"And the others?" Remus had abandoned trying to speak in longer sentences for fear he’d start panting.

"Remember our first Hogsmeade weekend this year? We split up and later you ran into me outside the Hog’s Head pub. Do you remember the guy I was talking to there?"

That shocked the werewolf back into normal speech. "Him!? Are you crazy? He was at least 30 years older than you. When did you meet with him?"

"Later that night. He was staying at the inn and he sneaked me up to his room. He was a little surprised I showed up. He thought I was just talking a good game, but he was happy enough to get me into bed with him."

They heard people coming somewhat noisily up the stairs. Remus acted quickly. Grabbing his wand off the nightstand, he hurriedly closed the curtains of Sirius' bed and whispered a silencing charm. 

"There. We can continue our discussion without anyone else hearing." He shuddered slightly from a combination of lust, the chilly night air, and his own daring at planting himself firmly on Sirius' bed. He fervently hoped Sirius wouldn't tell him to get lost.

"You're shivering. Wait a second," Sirius muttered. Remus felt him shift on the bed and then wriggle around like a fish out of water.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting on my pajama bottoms. Okay. Why don't you get under the covers to warm up?"

"You sure?" 

"Moony, I promise I not to molest you," Sirius teased wryly.

Remus crawled under the covers, grateful for the warmth of his friend's body. His hand accidentally brushed along Sirius' arm as he settled in. A tingle buzzed through him. They lay quietly for a while, their bodies not quite touching. 

Finally Remus had to ask the question that had been tapping at the edge of his mind. “So, are you and Tim…will you see each other again?”

Once more Sirius sighed. He didn’t sound happy. “I’m not interested in dating him. I just wanted sex tonight.”

“Oh.” Inwardly, Remus rejoiced, but he felt somewhat guilty about it. “Are you interested in anyone? I mean, if you are, but don’t want to mention any names, I’d understand and-“

“Yes,” Sirius interrupted. Crestfallen, Remus was glad the darkness hid his expression. Sirius continued. “But, I’ve never said anything to him. He has no clue…although he **knows** about me…”

Remus pondered silently for a few moments. /Who knows, besides me? James? Maybe, but he’s not gay. Peter? Hmmm. I doubt it. So who else…?/ His stomach tightened. /Me?/

Cautiously, hardly daring to draw breath, Remus turned to face Sirius in the dark. Speaking slowly and deliberately to hide any possible quaver in his voice he said, “Maybe you should tell him.”

The mattress tilted as Sirius slid a few inches away from Remus. “I don’t know…I suppose. I guess I’m afraid of his reaction.”

Remus huffed. “You’re not afraid to hang by your ankles off the top of the Astronomy Tower, but you’re afraid to tell someone who you think knows about you that you like him?” Emboldened by Sirius’ confession of fear, Remus reached out and grasped his shoulder. It was all he could do to keep his hand still, and not let it tickle along a collarbone or wander off elsewhere along that body. He felt a tremor under his fingers, but the taller boy did not pull away. Remus gently persisted. “Sirius, you don’t have a chance if you keep this to yourself.”

“I know. You’re right, of course. I’ll say something. Soon.” He bent the knee closest to Remus, creating a tent out of the bedclothes. Remus wondered if he was trying to hide anything. He let go of the firm, warm shoulder, afraid he’d give in to his desire to slide his hand down to Sirius’ groin to check on his suspicions. They lay quietly. The only sound was their not-quite-even breathing. 

Remus turned and settled on his back, widening the distance between them. Finally, he asked, “Have you said anything to your parents?”

"Oh, God, no!" Sirius moaned. Remus sensed rather than saw the extravagant eye roll. "You've met them. Can't you just see what their reactions would be if I told them I was gay? My father would be torn between disowning me and flat out killing me on the spot. And my mother would keel over dead from a stroke.”

Remus had taken an instant dislike to Sirius’ parents. Although outwardly polite, he sensed they didn’t think he was a suitable friend for their son. But, he felt compelled to try to look at things optimistically.

"Oh, Sirius, no. You're wrong. Yes, they’d be surprised, but they’d get over it.”

“No, they wouldn’t. They’ve spent years not listening to what I tell them about myself because it’s not what they want to hear. Just like they don’t believe me when I tell them I want to be an Auror, and not a jeweler. Whenever I say or do something wrong, they sneer about the childish phase I’m going through. Or they make cutting remarks about how such a bright boy can be so stupid. I wish I knew how to get their attention so that they’d listen, really listen, to me. Tell them I’m gay? Ha!” He chuckled, but it was a laugh full of bitterness. “They’d certainly hear that. And they’d hate me for it.”

Words deserted Remus. He knew. He had physically recoiled on hearing the insults Sirius’ parents directed towards their son, comments made all the more biting by their off-handed casualness. Sirius was right. They would hate him.

“Remus, my family is so…traditional. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding every Sunday for dinner. If a leg of lamb somehow found its way to the table, they'd glare down their noses at it like it was some sort of rude, smelly tramp tracking mud all over the house.” Sirius paused and then added, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s how they look at me sometimes. Like I don’t belong there…”

The dry humor had snapped like a bough breaking under too much strain. Sirius’ tone was so bleak it made Remus cringe. His arousal gone, he tried desperately to think of something comforting to say. But, before he could speak, Sirius continued wistfully.

“We’re opposites, you and I. An unforeseen and terrible accident cursed you forever, while an accident of birth entitles me to all sorts of things I don’t want. But, I envy you, Remus. Your parents would do anything for you, to try to cure you. And they’ll always love you, no matter what. My parents don’t even **see** me. They see the heir to the throne, like we’re some sort of fucking royalty. And they hate that I’m not what they want in a son. They wanted a perfect, little prince, and what they got was this ugly, gangly troll whose brain doesn’t work in acceptable ways.”

“You really are mental, you know,” Remus snorted, grasping at a flimsy opportunity to lighten the mood. “A troll? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

“It makes no difference! Not to them!” Sirius replied vehemently. “They’ve got an image in their minds that I’ll never measure up to. And I can’t make them understand why I’m different. I’ve tried to talk to them and they don’t pay attention. All they do is ignore me or ridicule me. Or get angry. Why can’t they hear me? Why can’t they listen…just once…”

Remus hated the tone in his friend’s voice. It wasn’t the voice of the self-possessed, increasingly attractive young man Remus desired. It was the plaintive sound of a lost boy, confused and hurt by the hostility he felt from those who were supposed to love him. “I don’t know…I’m sorry, Sirius.” Tentatively, he reached out again to touch the taller boy and was surprised when Sirius suddenly rolled towards him, burying his head into Remus’ shoulder, an arm encircling his waist. Remus locked his own arms around his friend and held him, feeling smooth skin under his hands and soft hair against his cheek. He felt a torrent of words building up behind his lips, a flood of phrases not of comfort or reassurance, but of a powerful attraction and a wild affection that went far beyond friendship. But, the time wasn’t right. Tentatively, he gently stroked the silky hair, but his words remained locked inside. They lay together silently until sleep claimed them.~ **~** ~ **~** ~*


	4. Unwanted Visitors

The pile of Runes books toppled in a slow avalanche, snapping Remus’ attention back to the present. Lunging clumsily, he managed to grab them before they fell off the table. Remus glared at the sniggering trio of Slytherins who had deliberately knocked the books over as they sauntered by. 

“Oops, so sorry, Lupin,” grinned Evan Rosier. As one, all three halted, forming a semi-circle around Remus’ chair.

“We hear that the Headmaster was not at all amused by your friend Black’s escapade today,” whispered Severus Snape, his face a picture of feigned shock. “Not that we mind. It makes life easier for us. All we’ll have to do to win the House Cup is sit back and watch your charming Sirius give rein to his more self-destructive tendencies.”

Avery chimed in, laughing. “I lost two galleons, three knuts, and you lost 100 points. I’d say it was a good exchange.” 

Remus knew he should ignore them, but he couldn’t keep quiet. “Well, I guess we’ll simply have to do a little extra work to earn the points back. We’ve done it before.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “You may have been able to pick up points before, but even a whiny, little, weakling like you must realize that your act is getting a little old. Dumbledore and McGonagall are no longer amused by their golden boys, Potter and Black.” His lips formed a smile, which did not reach his deep, ebony eyes. “I bet Black could very well face expulsion if he tries to pull anything like this again. Wouldn’t that be a shame?”

Remus felt the implied threat, but refused to rise to the bait. “McGonagall has no problems with James and Sirius. At least she knows they can handle her assignments and she doesn’t have to worry that they’ll accidentally transfigure their own ears into large pink bows.” He gazed innocently at Rosier, whose skin flushed. 

“Lupin, you’re asking for trouble…”

“Boys, if you’re not here to study, then you should leave!” An aggrieved Madame Pince came bustling over. With a final sneer, the Slytherins left.

Remus forced himself to banish the unpleasant trio from his mind and concentrate on his assignment for the next hour. Then, feeling virtuously studious, he checked out some of the books and made his way back to his dorm room. 

Upon entering, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sable-haired vision leaning on the windowsill. The vision turned around, the cool fire in his eyes warming Remus’ skin from across the room. Dumping his books on his bed without a care, Remus slowly approached. For the third time that day, they stood a whisper apart, staring at each other. 

Without pausing to think about what he was saying, Remus blurted out, “I’ve been attracted to you for such a long time.”

Sirius’ lips twitched into his patented lop-sided grin. “Yeah? For how long?” He asked quietly, seeing the path out of his private wilderness lit by the glow in Remus’ hazel eyes.

“Years…” Remus whispered.

Slowly, inexorably, their lips met and melded together in a wet, lingering kiss. It felt sooo good, so right, to be locked in each other’s arms, pressed together. Remus’ kiss-drunk mind gradually realized that Sirius had started grinding his hips back and forth. The friction of their groins pressed together aroused them further, each aware of the bulge in the other’s trousers.

A warm trail of air swept across his ear as Remus heard a hoarse whisper. “Ooooh, Remus, love, please come to bed with me.”

Remus silenced the voice with his mouth, his tongue sliding in search of its mate. He felt as well as heard a muffled groan. Drawing back a little, he murmured, “Where are the others?”

Sirius interspersed his abbreviated sentences with kisses. “James with Lil. Prefect meeting. Peter mentoring. Third years. Not back till dinner.”

They had slowly been making their way across the room. Sirius finished his recitation as they reached his bed. Standing there they paused to look intently at each other, knowing they stood on the brink of something that would change their worlds forever. With one hand tangled in the thick black hair and the other fisted in Sirius’ shirt, a heady realization struck Remus like a hammer blow. The only thing he had ever wanted as much as he wanted Sirius was to be rid of his lycanthropy. Right now, he couldn’t say which he desired more. 

Sirius felt his heart lurch as he stared at the maturely young face in front of him. It struck him that this face had haunted him for ages. He suddenly remembered how he felt the first time he laid eyes on Remus Lupin…

~ **~** ~ **~** After being Sorted, Sirius sat at the Gryffindor table, exchanging greetings and introductions with those around him. But, every time McGonagall’s voice called out a boy’s name, Sirius glanced up, his eyes seeking out the unknown boy to whom he had spoken before the Sorting began. There was something about him that had captured Sirius’ attention. He had been standing quietly, ignoring James’ anxious squirming. "Let's just get on with this, can't we?" James had muttered. Sirius paid no attention to him. A pale, anxious face in the midst of the crowd had caught his attention. This boy, whose hair made Sirius think of warm, buttered toast, seemed somehow isolated in spite of the other students gathered near him. Sirius had stepped up to the stranger and, with a smile, imparted his sister’s explanation of the Sorting Hat. Looking into the other boy's limpid eyes, Sirius had felt a whispery frisson of electricity dance along his nerves. It was hard to breathe properly around this stranger.~ **~** ~ **~**

Now he understood the inchoate feelings of six years ago. He was in love with Remus. He desired Remus. He belonged with Remus. They were made for each other. His heart soared as Remus smiled at him, and wordlessly, gave him permission to do what he wanted. It was Remus who tipped them both onto the bed in a writhing mass of arms and legs. With their mouths hungrily feeding on each other, Sirius started undoing Remus’ robe. Once it was open, Remus flailed his arms in his haste to shed it, but only succeeded in twisting it around himself. Their breathless voices filled with laughter, the two rolled around getting in each other’s way, pawing at the aggravating, clinging cloth. With a howl of impatience, Remus struggled up from the bed and finally shucked off the robe. 

Feet pounded up the stairs. Their expressions turning to horror, Remus and Sirius recognized the voices outside the door. It burst open. Peter and three third year boys crowded in and thundered over to Peter’s trunk. Peter said, “Why don’t you guys sit down and, once I find those parchments, we can talk about what to watch out for when you use this stuff in potions.” 

He began rummaging energetically through the oddments in his trunk, all the while nattering on about fewmets and scarab dung. Remus sank slowly onto his own mattress, the ache in his groin rendering him speechless. Sirius had no such problem. He hurled himself face down into his pillow and shrieked, “Ahhcantakeaeemaw!!!”

Peter and the other boys turned to look at him. “Sirius, are you alright?” Peter asked, clearly puzzled at this uncharacteristically animated outburst.

“Ahhcantstanded!!” 

The four interlopers looked inquisitively at a forlorn Remus, who was sitting curled up at the edge of his bed. His hazel eyes burned them with a scary intensity as he interpreted Sirius’ muffled cries. “He said, ‘I can’t take anymore…I can’t stand it.’” 

Peter was not enlightened. “And this makes sense to you?”

Remus sighed. “Oh, yeah.”

Since Remus didn’t seem inclined to explain, and Sirius had stopped screaming, Peter turned his attention back to his protégés and expounded on the tricks of using various animal excrements in potions. Remus pushed his books out of the way and, with a slight whimper, gradually collapsed onto his bed.

James Potter climbed the stairs to his dorm room, greeting Peter and his small group of third years as they descended. It had been quite a day. The new Quidditch move, Sirius’ climb, McGonagall’s outburst, Dumbledore’s heavy sentence. James grinned with a bit of inspiration. He’d title today “Climb and Punishment.” He’d have to remember to tell Sirius, who had an appreciation of Muggle literature.

There had been no doubt in James’ mind that Sirius would successfully scale the wall. He had witnessed, and was occasionally cajoled into, climbs up the rocky, treacherous cliffs near the Blacks’ country home in Cornwall. He much preferred taking chances with his health while on his broom, being addicted to the sensation of flying. He got more of a rush on his broom, although he could understand the appeal of climbing to Sirius. Of course, there was that one day in July, when they were fourteen, that someone had seen them and told Mr. Black. Sirius’ parents had been furious, especially since they had expressly forbidden their son to undertake such “foolhardy and dangerous” escapades. James had been summarily sent home the following morning and Sirius had been grounded for the rest of the summer. He was not permitted to visit or even write to his friends, and had been forbidden to leave the house except when accompanied by a parent. 

James mused. They had kept Sirius on a short lead, virtually imprisoning him in his own home. When Sirius returned to Hogwarts, a number of students thought he must have suffered some long-term illness, since his skin was not the usual healthy bronze that came with spending whole days out of doors. However, the indomitable Sirius had found another way to be subversively productive. He had spent hours scouring the books in his parents’ library and had made great strides in solving some of the puzzles surrounding the Animagus transformation. But, today’s events were guaranteed to infuriate the Blacks. Sirius would probably receive a Howler that would blow out the windows in the Great Hall. 

Upon entering the dorm room James was immediately struck by the peculiar attitudes of the two other boys. Sirius was lying face down, motionless, his head mashed into his pillow. Had James not been able to see the steady rise and fall of his breathing, he would have thought his best friend had asphyxiated himself. Remus lay across his own bed, staring blankly up into his canopy, an expression of pure longing on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” James asked cautiously. There was definitely something going on here. The very air felt heavy.

Slowly, two heads turned towards him. His friends looked at him with identical expressions of distracted distaste. He glanced down at himself, wondering what sort of repulsive creature was crawling up his robes. Seeing nothing wrong with his appearance, James looked back at the other two in time to see Remus shake his head slowly, giving up on James’ obtuseness. Sirius merely plopped his face back into his pillow.

Well, James could take a hint. If they were not going to let him in on whatever was bothering them, then he’d act like all was right with the world. “Are you two planning on going down to dinner?”

Remus heaved a heavy sigh as he stood up. “Yessss.”

Sirius groaned and rolled over to get to his feet. He exchanged a look with Remus that James could not immediately translate. They were obviously not angry at each other. No, they seemed more like allies on the same side of some battle. In fact, they looked like they were…Were they? He’d have to keep an eye on them.


	5. Creatures

The next day was Saturday. As the boys left the dorm for breakfast, James surreptitiously kept an eye on Remus and Sirius. They seemed a little off, but James couldn’t put his finger on just what that was. Peter also sensed something. He looked curiously at Remus as they headed down the staircase. “Are you alright, Moony?” 

James swore saw Remus shoot a lightning-fast glance at Sirius before he looked back at Peter to say, “I’ didn’t sleep very well last night. That’s all.”

James peered under his messy bangs at Sirius. His quiet friend also seemed a bit weary. And James was positive that he saw Sirius’ glance frequently shifting towards Remus. Something was definitely up with these two.

Once they captured their usual places at the Gryffindor table, Sirius sank into a preoccupied state, barely registering the fact that food had appeared. His thoughts were miles away, at least until a scolding caw echoed over their heads heralding the arrival of Hadar Black’s haughty gyrfalcon. Sirius glared at him, knowing full well that Xerxes was only used for missives his father though of great importance.

“That was quick,” Peter commented on the bird’s appearance. “You’d think that it would have taken at least twenty-four hours for the school to let you parents know what you were up to yesterday and for them to send a note about it.” 

Sirius merely shrugged, happy that his parents hadn’t sent him a Howler. It was a measure of the depth of his preoccupation that he barely glanced at the short, ominous note from his father regarding the previous day’s escapades. ‘Your mother and I have had enough of your inexplicable and unacceptable behavior. You choose to disobey us. You will pay the consequences. When you come home for Christmas, we will inform you of the steps we intend to take to make you conduct yourself in a manner more befitting your family and your station in life. ’ 

Sirius had more pressing concerns than his parents’ disapproval. Where could he and Remus go to be alone? He pondered, oblivious to the conversation of his roommates. The best place he could think of was the Shrieking Shack. No one would interrupt them there, other than James or Peter and he could warn both of them off. But, he wasn’t sure how Remus would feel about having a romantic tryst in the very place that was the site of so much pain. However, there was a perfectly good bed in one of the rooms. He could bring candles and food and perhaps decorate a bit in some sort of autumnal theme. 

As they all rose from the table, Professor Kettleburn’s booming baritone reverberated from the walls of the Great Hall. “Mr. Black!”

“I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Sirius said as he turned towards the Head Table. He walked to meet Kettleburn, ignoring the sniggering comments of the Slytherins. “Go on, Black. You’ll look so pretty covered in hippogriff shit.” “Don’t let the skrewts burn your delicate fingers, Siri!”

“Yes, Professor?” Sirius looked evenly into Kettleburn’s craggy, frowning face. 

“Since Dumbledore’s appointed you my personal assistant for the rest of this term, I’m going to take advantage of that. I need to give some medications to some of our resident creatures this morning. Meet me at the paddock in 15 minutes and don’t wear anything you’re fond of; it might get messy.”

As Sirius left the Great Hall to don his grubbiest clothes, he found Remus waiting for him. Wordlessly they walked back towards Gryffindor Tower. As they passed the open door to the Transfiguration classroom, Remus suddenly grabbed his companion and practically threw him into the room. Sirius barely had time to yelp in surprise before Remus was on him, pinning him to the wall, with an eager mouth sealed to his lips and an importunate tongue trying to slide down his throat. Sirius responded, clutching the hard, tense body pressed up against him, electricity zipping along his nerves.

When they broke apart to resume their walk to their dorm, Sirius broached the subject of the Shack. “I know it’s not the most romantic spot in the world, but it’s private. And the bedroom is relatively comfortable. I want to spend the night alone with you, making love with you, with no interruptions.” He looked uncertainly at Remus, wondering if the tawny head would shake in dismissal, too overwhelmed by the torments of his transformations to see the Shack as anything but a prison. His heart skipped a beat when he saw those luscious lips curve in a smile as the hazel eyes tipped up to look at him. Golden glints flashed a heated message of want and desire. That look was borderline predatory and Sirius found himself licking his lips with anticipation.

“The Shack will be perfect,” Remus said, his voice a smoky, feral growl. He stepped back. “You better get going. You don’t want to make Kettleburn wait.”

At the appointed time Sirius was standing by the fence near the two young hippogriffs in the paddock. He had already greeted them with a deep, respectful bow, and one, a bronze-colored female had readily come over to have her shoulders massaged. Sirius climbed into the paddock and let his fingers knead the strong muscles. Her half-closed eyes suddenly flew open and she whirled to confront something behind him. He turned slowly, not wanting to alarm her further, and praying she wouldn’t tear him to shreds.

It was Kettleburn, chuckling under his breath. He bowed to the young female, who, after eyeing him imperiously for a few moments, settled her ruffled feathers. She stepped back to Sirius, while glaring balefully at the Professor.

“You weren’t scared of her, were you, lad.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No, just wondering if I had any chance to get out of her way before she ripped my arm off.”

“She had no intention of harming you. She was protecting you.”

Sirius noticed that the female had placed herself between him and Kettleburn. And, while her massage seemed uppermost in her mind, she was keeping a wary eye on the Professor. He pulled a small tin of something out of his pocket and moved slowly to the hippogriff. Speaking in a low, soothing voice, the Professor explained what he was doing. “She has a small cut right above the hoof on her left hind leg that doesn’t seem to be healing. I’m going to spread some salve on it. Keep rubbing her shoulders like that until I’m done.”

In the same even tone Sirius asked, “Will that stuff hurt her?”

“No, it shouldn’t feel at all unpleasant, so she shouldn’t attack either one of us. But you never know with hippogriffs…”

The salve application went off without incident. Next, the two moved on to a pair of avanuls, flightless birds the size of turkeys. . They had been suffering some sort of digestive distress and were not at all happy at being forced to swallow their medication, which took the form of damp wads of sawdust that smelled of offal. This was followed by dosing a large, nervous pellazine with an even fouler smelling liquid. This deer-like creature contained surprising strength within her slender, lithe frame. Sirius attempted to hold the pellazine still while Kettleburn tipped a leather flask into her mouth. She put up a tremendous fight, yanking Sirius back and forth across her stall until he was finally able to pin her into a corner. By that time, both humans had been sprayed with some of the flask’s foul liquid. As if the rancid odor of the solution wasn’t bad enough, the color and consistency put Sirius in mind of a night he had spent on the bathroom floor heaving his guts out after drinking too much mead. Making love to the toilet, as James had sardonically said at one point.

Professor Kettleburn left the best task until last. He tossed a bag to Sirius and pointed to some half-grown, orphaned kneazels. “Give them each three or four pellets apiece. And watch your fingers. The beasts love those things and their wee teeth are sharp as razors.”

Sirius sat cross-legged on the ground and attracted a writhing, clambering crowd of mewing cats as soon as they heard the sound of the bag opening. They behaved much more politely than Sirius had expected, taking the pellets from his fingers with great delicacy. Two of the young cats then settled comfortably on his thighs, washing their faces. A third leaped to his shoulders and then draped himself around Sirius’ neck, occasionally rubbing its face against the teen’s jaw. 

Kettleburn came out of the stable and stared down at his young assistant. “You’re done for the day, Mr. Black. You can take yourself off.”

“Is it okay if I stay with the kneazles for a while?”

The burly professor shrugged. “If you wish.” He turned to make his way towards the castle, but then stopped, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You have a gift with animals, Sirius. They trust you very quickly, even my wilder, more unpredictable friends. You have an innate sense in how to approach them and they can feel it. It’s almost like you’ve dealt with dangerous creatures before.”

Sirius’ impassive facade stood him in good stead. “I guess it’s just one of those things, Professor.” The Professor grunted a reply and continued on towards the Castle. Sirius idly tossed a small stone across the ground. Three kneazel heads whipped around to follow its path. Sirius gathered several more stones, and, sliding his wand out of his pocket, transformed them into light-weight balls. One by one he skipped them hard across the ground. The kneazels launched themselves after their rolling prey, enthusiastically batting the balls through the paddock and out towards the forest. 

Sirius watched the young cats play for a while, and then rose to go back to the Castle to prepare for his evening with Remus. The dorm room was empty when he arrived. Changing out of his sodden, smelly clothes, he left James a note, borrowing the Invisibility Cloak. Flinging it over himself, he gathered some blankets and sheets from the linen closet and then made his way to the Whomping Willow. Carefully looking around to make sure no one was near, he pressed the knot near the base of the tree to still its wild waving. Quickly, he disappeared into the hole in the ground and made his way along the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack.

When he came to the bedroom door, he saw a scrap of parchment tacked to it. In Remus’ fine hand the note said, “Do not disturb – for Padfoot and Moony only!” Sirius opened the door to the bedroom and his jaw dropped in surprise. The room was filled with flowers and candles. Asters and mums of every hue sang a glorious paean to autumn, backed by boughs covered with leaves of gold and scarlet and vermilion. Unlit candles stood waiting on the nightstand, the old desk, the narrow mantle, sure to cast a magic glow on the heady colors splashed across the room.

Sirius made up the bed and dropped a tube of lubricant on the nightstand, smiling the entire time. Smoothing the pillows he thought about how Remus’ tawny hair, glinting gold in the firelight, would look spread against the blinding white of the linens. He imagined the same light striking sparks from the myriad colors of Remus’ hazel eyes. And he wondered how those eyes would look at him tonight. Would they glance away, overcome with shyness? Or would they burn fever-bright with a fire whose smoke was the husky, growling breath emanating from succulent lips? A quiver of nervous anticipation rippled through Sirius’ stomach. He still smiled.

The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slowly. Sirius exploded into a frenzy of class work, tossing his usual procrastination out the window, seeking to finish all his weekend assignments before dinner. For some reason, this didn’t make the minutes pass any quicker, but the sight of Sirius operating at full-throttle academic efficiency served to inspire a great many of the Gryffindors, even though they found it a little disturbing.

The only time Sirius came to a complete standstill, physically and mentally, was when James cornered him halfway between the Library and the dorms. “Hold still for a minute,” James ordered, clamping his hands onto Sirius’ upper arms and forcing him to a halt. 

“What? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“I can see that you’ve gone completely insane. What’s going on? What are you and Remus up to? And why are you keeping Peter and me out of it?”

“Umm, you think we’re up to something?” Sirius’ eyes slid guiltily sideways off of James’ face to focus somewhere down the corridor. He lacked the capability to lie convincingly to James, much to his irritation.

James’ brows scaled impossible heights. “Oh, come on! Considering you’ve both borrowed a particular article of clothing from me today. And you’re obviously planning on keeping your Sunday free of schoolwork. And when I asked Remus, he smiled a very odd smile and told me to ask you. And **you** look guilty as sin. You’re usually much more adept at hiding your tracks.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well. Umm.” Sirius’ eyes had wandered back to James’ face, but his expression was one of such perplexity that James had to laugh. But, he said nothing more and waited for Sirius to continue. Taking a deep breath, Sirius dove in. “Right. Here it is. And I hope this isn’t going to upset you, but, well, you asked. Remus and I are spending the night at the Shack. Alone. Together. We’ve…come to realize that we have a…an attraction for each other.”

James pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Meaning an emotional attraction or do you just want to shag each other senseless?”

Sirius pondered for a second. “Yes.”

James nodded, considering. “I thought so, “ he murmured. Sirius stared at him, for once completely motionless. Then, like the sun at daybreak, a smile spread slowly over James’ face. “Well, that’s alright, then.”

“It is?” Sirius had never quite figured out how and when to come out to James, even though he was sure James suspected something. And he thought that, best friend or not, James was bound to be a little peeved at being kept in the dark for so long. 

James grinned at him and started back towards the dorms, first pulling Sirius along, and then slinging an arm around his shoulders as they settled into step with one another. “Yes, it is. Although, I’m warning you. You better be good to Remus or I’ll give you a damn hard thumping.”

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~

The night air bit with sharp, chilly teeth as two figures hidden under an Invisibility Cloak made their way to the Whomping Willow. They welcomed the cold for its calming effect on their racing, heated blood. Soon they scrambled into the passageway under the gnarled roots, two young men embarking on a journey across uncharted waters. They walked quickly through the tunnel. So quickly, they had no idea that a third person had approached the Willow, drawn by its extraordinary stillness. A pair of obsidian eyes quickly found the opening by the roots, but as he came closer to explore, the opening disappeared, and the tree’s branches thrashed mightily back and forth. He flung himself to the ground and rolled out of the way, but not before a long, muscular branch smacked him hard in the middle of his back. With a muffled cry of pain, he scrambled out of reach. Then he rose and walked back to the castle, thinking.


	6. The Shack

Somewhat breathless, with faces slightly flushed, Sirius and Remus stood staring at each other in the Shack’s little bedroom, which was transformed from its usual sparse coldness by the fire crackling in the small hearth and the many softly glowing candles. It wasn’t simply the rapid trip through the tunnel and the scramble up the stairs that made their pulses race. Mesmerizing hazel eyes, glowing with the tones of forest and earth, locked with ethereal blue-gray, sparkling with shades of ice and sky. The warm light illuminated the autumnal riot of flowers and leaves, as if the power of the sun still radiated from them. 

Sirius smiled, trying in vain to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. “Well…here we are. Finally.” How could Remus look so calm, when Sirius felt his heart might pulsate right out of his chest? After all, he was the one with some experience at this, not Remus. He rubbed his hands nervously down his hips to wipe his sweaty palms dry. 

All the while Remus stared at him, deserted by speech. He grinned suddenly. Somehow, Sirius’ visible anxiety made him feel more relaxed. More daring. He slowly closed the distance between them, entranced by the candlelight playing across Sirius’ face. Without even thinking about it, the fingers of one hand traced the patterns of shadow and light, dancing with the fleeting touch of snowflakes across jaw and cheekbone.

Sirius felt as if he was already naked, caught by those fingertips, trapped by the ineffable face before him. That completely unforgettable face. He felt he’d bear its imprint in his heart forever. This had to be right. He wanted so much to make this night good for both of them. A convulsive fear suddenly gripped him. What if he disappointed Remus? What if he bumbled this golden moment and deformed their growing attraction into unfulfilled yearning?

His anxious thoughts began to lose coherency, as now both of Remus’ hands touched him, barely marking his outline, as if conjuring flesh and bone and deep, dark hair, carving a lover in the air. Phantom touches undid buttons and smoothed the shirt off Sirius’ shoulders. A slightly wicked smile slowly spread across Remus’ face. “You are so very, very alluring, Sirius. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long…”

Sirius felt like he was falling off a cliff. He didn’t resist it. “Me, too, Remus.” 

Remus felt his own skin ripple as hands slid under his sweater and brushed against him. Seconds later the sweater was tossed aside and Sirius’ slightly calloused fingers whispered across Remus’ skin. The feathery touch made Remus shiver with anticipation, a feeling that climbed higher as Sirius’ arms encircled him, pulling him close, skin to skin, hip against hip, and finally, mouth to mouth in a heady, drunken kiss. They devoured one another, their lips and tongues fired by the friction of their flesh. Their hands fumbled at each other’s waists, pawing at belts and zippers until finally all the constricting clothing was gone and it was just they together, sprawled across the smooth, cool sheets.

They had seen each other naked or nearly naked countless times during their years at Hogwarts. But the glimpse of skin in the bathroom or when changing clothes was nothing like the complete submersion into the senses that overwhelmed them now. Exploring each other’s flesh with fingers and tongues, tasting skin, breathing in the subtly changing scents of each other’s bodies was an aphrodisiac neither fully expected.

Remus felt as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room or blood in his veins, as if every scrap of air and energy had left his lungs and heart to spiral in a swirling maelstrom right into his groin. He found himself on his back with Sirius pressing down on him, their erections rubbing deliciously against each other. This was too much too soon and he felt he might – 

And then he felt Sirius’ mouth against his scar. Not just any scar. The Scar. The oldest one, still fiercely impressed into his shoulder. He didn’t care about the other scars that marked his legs and arms and chest and abdomen. They were incidental, the inevitable outcome of his transformations. But that first scar was another matter. It marked him like a brand. It marked his loss of humanity and his birth as a Dark Creature. The slashing path of a werewolf’s teeth had left a pattern of bright, white ribbons draped over his shoulder, front and back. The pale tissue was hard and frozen, deadened to feeling for all these long years. Sirius had seen it before and after his transformations on the nights of the full moon. But, now all of its ugly connotations intruded on them, carrying the howl of the wolf to their ears. 

Remus tried to twist away, embarrassed at the exposure of this symbol of his maimed life to his almost-lover. “Don’t, Sirius – “

But, his black-haired tempter saw no shame or ugliness. Tenderly, his lips caressed the numb trails that bore witness to terrifying pain. His tongue laved the ruined flesh. “Mmmmm…” A low, soothing growl hummed from the back of Sirius’ throat. His warm mouth awoke sensations long dormant, and, to Remus’ wonder, the frozen ache that was always there dissipated, leaving him speechless. “Ohhhhh…” he breathed. A bolt of pure, frenzied desire swept through him at the realization that Sirius found him ravenously attractive. Remus clutched Sirius tight, arms and legs wrapped around him, wanting him closer, closer, wanting them to meld into each other. His hips hitched upwards, rubbing his cock against its mate, wanting the heat and the friction. It felt so good he knew he wouldn’t last.

“Sirius,” he gasped against his lover’s mouth, “I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Hold on.” Sirius’ voice was aural smoke. “For a few more minutes. Let me do this for you.”

He pushed himself down Remus’ body, his face alight with an unbridled lust that made Remus’ insides clench with expectation. Remus grabbed at the mattress, the sheets, anything he could reach, as he watched the tip of Sirius’ tongue delicately lap up the pearly liquid leaking out of his cock. Again, Remus’ hips bucked, almost uncontrollably, as the full, wet lips enveloped the head, sucking him slowly, inexorably into a heated vortex.

Eyes squeezed shut, Remus flopped back on the bed, the long muscles of his legs straining. If he looked at Sirius, if he watched his cock slowly disappearing into Sirius’ mouth, he’d come for sure. He fought desperately for control, hardly recognizing his own voice in the choked, mewling cries that spewed from his mouth. 

A totally new sensation made Remus jerk as if hit by a bolt of lightning. A finger coated with ointment gently probed along the cleft between his arse cheeks, stopping at the tight, puckered hole. It stroked and teased and slowly wormed its way inside. Reflexively Remus tensed against this invasion of his body, but the finger was so slickly insistent, and the mouth savoring his turgid flesh so succulent he couldn’t resist. The finger pushed in and out in tandem with Sirius’ feeding, sucking rhythm on his cock and it was finally too much. Remus seized fistfuls of ebony hair. He choked out a garbled warning that lost itself in a wordless cry as he came hard and fast into Sirius’ eager mouth.

Remus lay panting. His hands unclenched and combed gently through the silky hair. Sirius slithered up his body, one hand still deep between Remus’ thighs. Several fingers had entered the channel into Remus’ relaxed body. Remus regretted not being able to hold on longer. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t last…”

“It’s okay,” Sirius murmured, kissing Remus deeply, sharing the tangy taste of Remus’ seed with him. This strange and powerful elixir, created and released by his own body and now served to him by his lover’s tongue, set Remus afire. The teasing fingers deep inside him massaged a spot that sent electric jolts of molten desire shuddering through his body. He hungered for Sirius’ touch, every nerve end screaming to feel the other’s flesh.

Sirius’ lips caressed Remus, sidling slowly along his jaw. The moist, warm breath spiraled into Remus’ ear. “Re – I want to fuck you.”

Oh, Merlin. No force on earth would make Remus refuse. “Yes,” he sighed, pressing against the fingers that still fluttered deep inside him, stretching him, slicking his channel open with a smooth, rich coating. But, then they slipped away. And the pleasurable weight of Sirius’ body on top of him lifted. Remus finally opened his eyes to a vision of Sirius crouched above him, gorgeous in the firelight. He still had trouble grasping the idea that Sirius found him attractive. But his doubts were swept away by the way Sirius looked at him. The strong, long-fingered hands grasped Remus’ lean hips. “Turn over. It’ll be easier for you face-down.”

Remus resisted. “But, I want to see you…”

Smiling apologetically, Sirius leaned down to kiss Remus, his lips warm and soothing. “Remus, this might hurt you.” His insistent, nibbling lips were very persuasive. “It’s your first time. Trust me. Please.”

Remus reluctantly drew his mouth away and rolled onto his stomach. Sirius’ eyes and hands swept down the smooth back, unmarked except for the scar of the werewolf high on Remus’ left shoulder. His fingers brushed over the firm buttocks and began gently kneading the fleshy globes. Remus looked so pure in the warm firelight. So beautiful. Sirius tugged his hips higher and slid the pillows underneath. He reached for more lubricant and applied a generous helping to himself. His cock, achingly hard, trembled at the stimulation of his hand. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “I want you so much!”

Shaking with the effort to go slow, Sirius pressed the head of his cock into the puckered hole. “Try to relax, Remus,” he gasped. He heard a garbled reply, and pushed again. Sweet Jesus, but Remus was tight. Tight with a satin heat that enveloped him like a glove. “Easy…easy…” Sirius mumbled as much to himself as to his lover as he inched gradually deeper until finally, he was completely sheathed within Remus’ body. Draped across Remus’ back, he panted with effort to keep still, letting Remus adjust to him. 

“You okay?” Sirius gasped.

“Uh huh,” Remus replied. “I feel…full. But it doesn’t hurt.”

“Good.” Sirius nuzzled the nape of Remus’ neck, savoring him with lips and tongue. His hips bucked in short, small thrusts. He wanted to draw this out, let his passion slowly build until he was thrusting long and hard and deep. He wanted to bury himself in Remus’ willing body. He wanted to make Remus feel how good... But the heady realization that he was with Remus undid him. Beautiful Remus, with the smooth skin of one shoulder ravaged by scars. Powerful Remus, who had willingly given himself to Sirius. Sharing this intimate act with him was more than Sirius could handle and with a sudden cry, he came.

Remus tensed as Sirius pulled out of him. He felt some pain, but also incredible warmth and a renewed arousal deep inside. It would be his turn next. With a hungry grin he curled onto his side to face Sirius, who for some reason looked vaguely ashamed.

“What’s wrong?” Remus was genuinely confused. 

Sirius shrugged. “It wasn’t as good for you as I wanted it to be.”

Remus was both delighted by Sirius’ admission and touched by his concern for Remus’ pleasure. In spite of his experience, Sirius was still unsure of himself. He was such an alluring bundle of conflicting emotions. Remus simply loved this complicated young man. He shifted to kiss Sirius softly. And his hands indulged themselves in a slow exploration of Sirius’ body, feeling the muscles relax in response to his touch. Remus finally began to get a sense of his own power. 

An idea occurred to him. He rose from the bed and, at Sirius’ raised brows, he winked and said, “Chocolate mint balls.” Scrambling through their supplies, he dug out the box of rich, creamy candy. Remus fished out several, tossing one into his mouth. Climbing up next to Sirius, he held a ball up questioningly. He could feel the chocolates starting to soften in his hand.

“Yes, please,” said Sirius.

Remus delicately fed the slowly melting confection to Sirius. Remus popped another one into his mouth and made short work of it. Then he held the last ball between his fingers. With a sly smile he asked, “Do you want it?”

“Yes.” An expectant grin now graced Sirius’ face. 

“Come and get it.” With that Remus flicked the ball into his own mouth. Sirius tackled him. They rolled around on the bed, making a rumpled mess of the sheets, until Sirius was finally able to pin Remus to the mattress. Their quickened breath surrounded them in clouds of minty chocolate. Remus snorted in amusement as Sirius’ lips pressed against his own, the importunate tongue darting nimbly into his mouth

in search of the vanishing candy. Remus gave up and allowed Sirius to claim it. The hard-fought for reward rapidly disappeared, trapped as it was between their tongues.

“You’re a dreadful tease, Remus Lupin.” Sirius scolded, trying not to smile. “And, besides, you should never bring chocolate to bed. It could melt and get all over the sheets.”

Remus attempted to look thoughtful, but his eyes fastened on Sirius like searchlights. “Well, then. Maybe you should do something about the chocolate that melted on my fingers.” Without taking his eyes off Sirius’, he slowly raised his hand and slid his smudged fingertips between Sirius’ lips. The lips parted, freeing the practiced tongue to work its magic. Remus felt the coating of chocolate disappear as it was licked away. With no more chocolate to distract it, the agile, pink ribbon began a slithery caress of his fingers, weaving between them, thoroughly coating them with saliva. The pale eyes stared knowingly at him. Remus’ pulse raced as he thought of what he could do with his slick fingers, what Sirius expected him to do. 

He squirmed to get out from beneath Sirius. The taller boy obliged him and simply rolled over onto his back, his long, muscular legs spread wide, knees pointing to the ceiling. “Do me, Remus,” he whispered in a hoarse voice half-demanding and half-pleading. The sound snapped some unseen bonds within the werewolf. Again, a surge of power fired though him. Sirius wanted him. Sirius was aroused by his body, his taste, his touch. 

As best as he could, Remus imitated Sirius’ actions. He used his wet fingers to prepare Sirius, amazed at the sight, as if he was watching someone else’s hand. His digits slowly twisted and scissored back and forth, sending sinuous undulations through Sirius’ body. Remus’ eyes darted heatedly from his hand to the sight of Sirius’ rapidly stiffening cock that jutted from the coal-black curls at his groin. Experimentally, Remus leaned down to lap at the head, sampling the musky, salty flavor. He felt wild and untethered and free. Free to allow his senses, his instincts to take over. 

“Come on, Re…” Sirius pleaded in a whimpering moan. He raised his legs onto Remus’ shoulders. Remus had to take him. He moaned in expectation as he felt Remus’ cock probe eagerly to enter him. Remus thrust forward and then stopped. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Remus shifted his position slightly, trying a different angle and this time was able slide further into his lover. He pushed, but too hard, as he saw Sirius wince. 

“Sorry, Paddy…Maybe…maybe you should turn over…” Remus gasped aloud. And, to himself he thought, ‘Please, God, let this work…’

Remus pulled back and, with one lithe movement, Sirius whipped his legs to one side and rolled onto his hands and knees. One hand shot out to the nightstand and grabbed something. Glancing back over his shoulder with a sardonic grin, he tossed the tube of lubricant to Remus. “This might help.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Remus felt like an idiot. An overheated, desperate, sex-starved idiot. He fumbled with the tube for a few seconds, his haste making him clumsy. He coated himself quickly. His cock, rock hard, glistened with ointment and drops of pearly moisture. Sirius spread his knees wider apart, which made his arse all the more inviting. Remus breathed with a high, keening sigh as once more he assaulted the tight ring of muscle. And this time he easily breached it, sliding with an indescribable friction into what surely was heaven on earth. His hands gripped Sirius’ hips hard as his body instinctively settled into a rhythm as ancient as any magic and as primal as the need for food or water or air. And it was as feral and untamed as the deepest desires of his werewolf soul.

With every thrust Sirius pushed back against him, matching his pace and his tempo. But, all too soon, he came in an explosive rush of energy and emotion that careened out of his control. Remus fell forward, his face between Sirius’ shoulders, his arms wrapped tightly around his lover. Sirius soon collapsed onto the bed, once he had brought himself to orgasm. Remus felt he could stay like this forever, with Sirius’ smooth skin under his cheek, listening to the strong beating of their wild hearts. 

Eventually Remus slid in a boneless heap to one side, but still stretched full-length against Sirius. He brushed the thick, black hair away from Sirius’ face and was rewarded with a sweet smile. “So, Remus,” Sirius whispered in a voice that slipped like a powerful drug into his bloodstream, “any regrets on losing your virginity?”

He didn’t recognize his own voice when he answered. “No. None. Although maybe we need a little practice to really get it right.”

Sirius’ eyes glittered like diamonds. “Well, we’ve got all night, don’t we?”

Remus’ kiss was all the answer either of them needed.


	7. A Magical Time

Total confusion reigned for one brief second. The dim light was barely strong enough to show the outline of the furniture, but it was enough for Remus to realize he wasn’t in his dorm. Then, in a flash, he recognized the small room in the Shrieking Shack. His nose picked up the lingering musky scent of sex. The nether region of his body complained with a slight ache at the invasions it had been subject to the night before. He smiled at the thought. His grin widened as he came fully awake and felt the warmth of another body lying next to him in bed.

Cautiously, Remus turned over to face a slumbering Sirius. Light and dark was the combination of his hair and brows and eyelashes against the paler tones of his skin. Remus watched his companion sleep. Boyfriend? Lover? They’d have to decide what to call each other. He smothered a snort at the thought of the expressions on the faces of Sirius’ parents should their son ever present him to them as his werewolf lover. Oh, they would hate that! 

Then his smile faded as he compared the warmth of his bond with his devoted parents with the unfeeling, distant relationship that crept like a light-starved plant in the Black household. None of the boys liked to spend time at the Blacks’ house, including Sirius. The intimidating, cold and rigid atmosphere ignored the needs of children. Instead, every emotion, every thought, every act was calculated to maintain the luster and reputation of the jewelry of Les Etoiles.

Remus remembered the first time he visited Sirius. He had been twelve when his father had brought him to the Blacks’ Cornwall estate in late July. He could still see the calculating glance the impossibly handsome Hadar Black had used to measure the Lupins, father and son. He had taken in their appearance, searched his memory to assess their position in society, and found them wanting. Mr. Black’s empty phrases uttered with perfect diction bade them welcome, but his air had been dismissive. Remus recalled how Sirius’ posture had stiffened perceptibly in recognition of his father’s attitude. His reaction didn’t escape Hadar’s frosty blue eyes. Turning to Gerard Lupin he had said, in what Remus sensed was a way to show Sirius who had the upper hand, “You have a fine-looking son, Mr. Lupin. A bit on the pale side, but, at least he’s not likely to scare away the birds and the beasts like my own ugly duckling here. Sirius has a face that frightens the gnomes out of the garden.”

Remus’ Dad had started in surprise, although he recovered himself quickly. He was too polite to say anything to his son’s host, but Remus saw that he disapproved of the way Mr. Black spoke about Sirius. In fact, Remus knew his father was hiding an immediate dislike of Sirius’ father. Remus had silently, but heartily, agreed. He had quite literally felt his hackles rise at the hateful tone and words of Hadar Black. 

He mused. It had been the first time he had ever felt fiercely protective of anyone. And it had nothing to do with any sort of wolfish pack mentality. It was because he cared about Sirius, and hated to see him hurt. Remus had come to realize that under Sirius’ impassive exterior was a boy who greatly needed the love and support of his friends because he didn’t receive those gifts from his family.

Gifts. Remus’ mind took off on another tangent. Odd, the way people thought about gifts. Every year for Christmas his parents bought him necessities, but also managed to scrape together money to buy him several expensive, beautifully bound books about subjects in which he’d expressed an interest. One of the great joys of Remus’ life was unwrapping new books. He loved their heft and feel and the mingled scent of leather and paper. He loved cracking one open for the first time and letting it take him on a journey in his mind’s eye.

Sirius’ parents always gave him expensive and lovely jewelry, which he would promptly lock away in his trunk. Last year it had been a platinum and onyx ring. It was enchanted to the night sky and showed Pisces, Sirius’ zodiac sign, in diamonds whenever that constellation was visible in the heavens. Remus, James and Peter had thought it quite beautiful. Sirius had only shrugged. Later, when Remus had asked why he didn’t like it, Sirius sat silently for a long moment, obviously debating with himself whether to say anything. Finally, he had looked at Remus and his eyes were full of longing. “Yes, it’s beautiful. And, yes, most people would be thrilled with this. I guess that shows that I really am the ungrateful sod my parents think I am.”

“That’s not what’s really bothering you about the ring, though, is it?” Remus questioned gently.

“No, not really,” Sirius admitted. He frowned, concentrating on finding the right words to describe how he felt. “But, it’s so... It’s something they picked off the shelf in the store to give me. They didn’t even have to think about it. It was just ‘Sirius is a Pisces – give him one of the Pisces rings.’ It’s expensive and showy and means absolutely nothing. Why can’t they just…just find something like…I don’t know…Something like a sweater and tell me they got it for me because they thought I’d look good in it?”

Mentally, Remus shook his head. The Blacks really didn’t understand their son if they thought that constantly reminding him of his gem-laden heritage would make him enthusiastically embrace a career in their business. A grimace of pure dislike flashed across the young man’s face. Why didn’t they ever see Sirius for what he was? Mr. Black thought he would eventually succeed in threatening or browbeating Sirius into accepting his destiny. And Mrs. Black wasn’t much better, concerned as she was with organizing or attending the right social affairs. It seemed that Sirius was always coming back to Hogwarts with tales of the screamingly boring parties he’d been forced to attend, especially now that he had grown into the same good looks as those possessed by his father. 

‘They show me off like I’m one of their glittering diamonds. I swear if they could put me into a gold setting, dangle me from a gold chain and sell me to some rich society type, they’d do it.” Sirius had said after the Christmas holidays of their fifth year. His tone had been joking and they had all laughed, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Grinning, James inadvertently stumbled across it. “You mean they’d kill several birds with one stone. They’d make some money off your miserable hide and make you realize that they own you. That Les Etoiles owns you.”

All traces of amusement had vanished from Sirius’ face. “Yes.”

Remus’ eyes caressed the sleeping face next to him and a smile pulled at his lips. The Blacks hadn’t yet succeeded in bending Sirius to their will. And, he doubted they ever would. Sirius could be maniacally driven if set on a course in which he believed. Just look at the way he had refused to give up on the Animagus transformation, even though it took them years to figure it all out. No, if the Blacks wanted Sirius to be the crown prince of Les Etoiles, they’d have to break him first. 

As if feeling the soft touch of Remus’ gaze upon his skin, Sirius eyes fluttered open. He smiled and his eyes drifted shut as he burrowed into Remus’ warm flesh. “Good morning,” Remus whispered.

“Shhh. Too early to get up…” Sirius mumbled. “Need more sleep…”

Remus didn’t reply, except to pull Sirius closer. The dark head turned and Remus felt a soft kiss on his shoulder. 

“You called me Paddy last night,” Sirius said in a hoarse, bedroom voice. 

“Mmmhmm.” Remus agreed.

“Paddy. No one else calls me that.”

Remus refrained from commenting that if Sirius truly wanted to go back to sleep, he should probably stop talking. The lips pressed against his skin curved into a smile. “I liked it.”

“Good. Go back to sleep, Paddy.”

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~*~

Days flowed together seamlessly through autumn’s golden haze. For Remus and Sirius, everything they saw or touched seemed infused with the clear, bright light. An almost ethereal brilliance emanated from everything around them. Food tasted better, jokes were funnier, blankets warmer, stars more plentiful. Time flew by and stood still, all at once. The only constant, the sole touchstone that each had in this giddy whirl was the other. They blessed their luck in being in the same year, the same dorm room, and now, the same bed. 

Autumn gave way to winter. As the Yule Ball approached, the dating grapevine was starved for information, especially regarding Sirius, who was on everyone’s list of top three best-looking guys in school. It seemed that each new day brought whispers linking a different girl’s name to his. Sirius remained silent on the subject, his reticence stifling all attempts to pry that elusive name from him. Even the most aggressively curious students were unsuccessful. Getting information from Sirius was like trying to scale glass. 

The Ball was actually low on Sirius’ list of priorities. It was to take place the night after a full moon and, if Remus felt too ill to attend, then Sirius saw no point in going. Remus, while pleased at this display of loyalty, thought it silly for Sirius to give up a party only to watch him sleep his way back to health. What Remus really wanted was for them to use the occasion to formally come out and let the world know they were together. Unfortunately, he couldn’t guarantee he’d feel up to it. Finally, after much discussion and repeated urging from his roommates and Lily, Sirius decided to spend some time at the Ball, but leave early to return to Remus.

The Great Hall blazed with candles. Stately Christmas trees, aglow with magical lights and shimmering crystal icicles lined the walls. The students dressed in their finery rivaled the magnificence of the decorations. Sirius arrived a few minutes late, after Remus’ insistence that he go have a good time finally drove him from their room. However, garbed as he was in rich crimson dress robes, Sirius’ entrance into the Great Hall was not at all unobtrusive. He was breath-taking and hundreds of eyes slewed around to drink in the sight of him before a wildfire of gossip swept through the students. “He’s alone.” “Look, Black’s attending stag.” “Did he ask anyone?” “Who would have turned him down?”

As Sirius approached the drinks table, Evan Rosier stepped into his path, his date at his side, with Andrew Avery snickering over his shoulder. Rosier’s sneering grin belied his sympathetic tone. “Well, well, Black. Couldn’t scrape up a date? Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a pity.”

Severus Snape, whose arm possessively encircled fellow Slytherin Moira Connolly, joined them. “You have my deepest sympathy, Black. It’s a shame to be alone on such a festive occasion.” 

Sirius smiled enigmatically at them as he gracefully sidestepped their blockade, and continued on his way. He chatted with other students and sampled the food. He danced several times when he was asked, but only with girls and boys with whom he had firm platonic friendships. Most of his time was spent driving James and Peter mad asking for the time. “Bloody bollocks, Sirius!” Peter finally erupted in exasperation. “It’s three minutes later than when you asked before. You’ve got a perfectly fine watch sitting in your damn trunk. Why the hell don’t you use it, instead of making the rest of us crazy?”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” Sirius was somewhat nonplussed by Peter’s outburst. “Everything seems to be dragging. I should just shove off back to the dorm.”

“Oh, no! Not yet. You haven’t danced with me!” Lily’s plaintive voice interrupted. 

Sirius grinned at her. “Alright, then, Lily, let’s go!”

James reached out and grabbed Sirius by the arm, as the two were about to join the crowded dance floor. “Padfoot. Remember. When you come back after this dance, you will have only killed five minutes. So don’t come bothering us about the ruddy time!”

Giggling, Lily slipped an arm around her partner and fairly dragged him onto the floor. They spun around in the midst of the whirl of happy students. Sirius ignored the occasional flirty looks other girls flashed at him. The song came to a close and then the music slid into a slow number, soft and romantic. As Sirius turned to escort Lily back to James a hand tapped him on the shoulder. “May I have this dance?”

Spinning around in surprise, Sirius’ gaze latched on to beautiful, if weary, hazel eyes. Remus stood before him, in the same dark green dress robes he had worn last year. The sleeves and hem were a little short. The fabric was a bit snug across the shoulders. And there was still a faint stain on the left front where Snape had accidentally on purpose spilled a glass of punch. He looked gorgeous. Sirius smiled his first genuine smile of the evening. “Yes,” he replied.

Remus slid his arms around the tall lithe body that eagerly sought his touch. They melted into one another, swaying to the gentle strains of the melody. Sirius couldn’t stop smiling, his eyes dancing back and forth over the finely shaped features of his lover. The avidity of his look made Remus blush. “So, are you having fun, Padfoot?”

“I am now.”

“Good. I wanted one dance with you tonight and then I’m going back to bed.”

“Can I join you?”

Remus chuckled. “Of course, but I’m fair to middling useless. I’m still pretty knackered.”

“That’s okay, as long as you’re curled up against me when you fall asleep.”

“It sounds like heaven.”

Their words ceased and they finished the dance speaking only through their eyes. As the final notes faded, the gap between their mouths closed and they stood still, locked in a tight embrace and an ardent kiss. They ignored the murmurs that radiated out from where they stood at the epicenter of a gossip earthquake. By the time the news of Remus and Sirius flashed to the far reaches of the room, everyone seemed to be taking credit for knowing about them all along. The pair in question, arms about each other, made their way towards the door. Sirius caught James’ eye across the crowded room and grinned at him. James gave him a thumb’s up sign. 

They had almost reached the door when Sirius had his second Slytherin confrontation of the night. Avery, Rosier and Snape, still with Moira in tow, stepped up close to them. Snape’s lip curled disdainfully. “I should have known the two of you were queer. It explains so much that’s disgusting about you.”

Remus smiled evenly back at him. “And, it explains the attraction you have for us, the way you always follow us around. I guess the question now is which of us do you want more?”

Eyes blazing at Remus, Snape drew breath to retort. Sirius leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Sevvy.”

Snape jumped back as if scalded. Moira’s hand flew over her lips, but that didn’t hide the bright flash of laughter that shone in her eyes. The other two couldn’t think of anything to do, other than gape. Ignoring them, Sirius and Remus left.

Thoughts of the Slytherins quickly faded from their minds. In less than fifteen minutes they had returned to the dorm, stripped off their robes, and slipped into bed. Both opted for pajamas, since the castle air was dank and chilly. Remus happily burrowed next to Sirius, in their blissful multi-layered cocoon of bed curtains, soft sheets, warm blankets and downy comforter. Snuggling close, he wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist, his face pressed into Sirius’ neck. He loved the feel of the sleek back under his hands even through the pajama top. Sirius reached around to scoop him even closer, nuzzling into the downy hair that smelled so bracingly clean. He had never been happier.

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” Remus murmured, his warm breath curling into the hollow of Sirius’ throat. He felt his lover’s expressive lips curve into a smile. “Me, too,” he whispered.

Content with the scent and feel and presence of each other, they slept.


	8. Consequences

All too soon the boys found themselves at King’s Cross Station, splitting up to head home for Christmas. Remus glanced over his shoulder as he walked through the station with his Mum and took one final, lingering look at Sirius. “I’ll see you next week,” he called.

Sirius smiled forlornly. “Yeah. See you in five days.” Five days that would seem like an eternity, he felt as he headed for the Underground for the final leg in his journey home to the Blacks’ elegant London townhouse.

Sirius was met at his door by one of the contingent of house elves.

“Hello, Geddy!” Sirius grinned at the little creature. Geddy bobbed his head, grabbed Sirius’ trunk and scuttled down the hall, all in one nervous motion. Sirius was somewhat taken aback as Geddy was usually very effusive when welcoming the Young Master back from school. Well, he was probably up to his saucer-sized eyeballs in preparations for the usual series of lavish holiday parties. Sirius went in search of his parents.

He didn’t find them in the drawing room, as he expected. Instead, they were up in his father’s wood-paneled office. The room didn’t feel right, Sirius noticed as soon as he entered. The very air seemed curdled.

“Hello?” Sirius said uncertainly. His heart sank at the level of parental disapproval he felt hovering around him. He closed the door behind him. ‘Uh oh,’ he thought. ‘Here comes the threatened punishment…’

His mother turned away from him, which had the effect of making him face his father directly. Hadar Black smiled with little warmth. “Well, Sirius. I believe we need to talk about your behavior, do we not?”

“I guess.” Sirius couldn’t help a nervous twinge in his stomach. He had expected to be taken to task for climbing the castle, but that had been months ago. Surely his parents hadn’t maintained a steady level of rage for all this time. He moved towards a chair.

“You don’t have permission to sit!” Hadar snapped. 

Sirius froze, his eyes flicking from his father’s angrily impassive face to his mother’s stiff shoulders and back again. Hadar, as always, noticed every small movement his son made.

“Your mother and I have spent many, many hours discussing you, Sirius.” His tone indicated how distasteful they had found that task. “And we are in complete agreement of what we must do to end your discipline problems. Obviously, Hogwarts is not providing the right atmosphere for you. It’s too lax, too ineffectual in bringing you to heel. You seem to think you can do as you please and pay for your transgressions with a detention or two. Well, my lad, there are always consequences for our actions. You haven’t learned that at school, so you will learn it here.”

“Dad, if this is about me climbing-“

“I wish it was only that!” Hadar spat. His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “We toyed with the thought. We should have acted on it and not waited until now. But, no! I let your mother sway my decision to remove you from that school!”

“Remove me! Why do-“

Hadar’s features twisted with anger. ‘Why, indeed! It hardly matters now! Now that you’ve shamed us with your public display of perversion!” 

Sirius’ struggled to keep his face impassive. Remus! They were talking about him and Remus as if the feelings between them were dirty and disgusting. He bit back an insolent retort as his father swooped over to his desk and grabbed a handful of parchments.

“Look at these, Sirius! Letters! Letters from friends and patrons whose children told them about your revolting display at the Yule Ball. You disgusting piece of filth! Public snogging! And with that pasty-faced Lupin brat! 

Sirius’ hands clenched. His temper rose, hotter and faster and higher than he’d ever felt it before, as if a volcano of rage was about to spew forth. Grimly, he reined it in. But, Hadar was just warming up.

“Did he even have dress robes to wear? A poor little church-mouse like that! They were probably frayed at the hem and threadbare at the elbows.” He was very near the mark and his keen, cold eye saw the truth of it in his son’s face. He laughed. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? You’ve thrown yourself at a pauper who’s probably desperate to clutch onto you for the money he thinks you’ll inherit. You’re both pathetic, little poufs-“

Sirius snapped. “Shut up! You don’t know! You don’t know anything! He’s worth a thousand of you!”

“Sirius!” Anthea Black suddenly turned from the window. “Don’t speak to your father in that tone!”

“Show some respect, boy!”

“Respect?!” Sirius’ choked voice rose higher. “You stand there attacking Remus, and what? I’m supposed to **thank** you for it?”

Shaking with anger, Sirius spun on his heel and headed for the door.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave, you spoiled, ungrateful, little puke!!”

Sirius kept walking.

“Enough!” Hadar’s voice cracked like a whip. He suddenly raised his wand. “Expelliarmus!” 

Catching Sirius’ wand as the surprised teen whirled to face him, Hadar yelled, “Stupefy!” 

And Sirius’ world went black.

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

Cool damp air. Musty smell. Cellar. Cellar? Sirius’ eyes opened. 

A single lit candle didn’t do much to banish the gloom. Cautiously, he sat up, realizing that he rested on a cot. And that he was, indeed, in the cellar. Vaguely wondering how long he’d been out cold, Sirius noticed an envelope with his name on it next to the candle. He picked it up and opened it. Out slid a long note written in his father’s hand. Well, this should give him some indication of just what sort of strange turn his life had taken.

‘Sirius,

Your childish outburst precluded any discussion of your future.’

Sirius snorted contemptuously. “Discussion! Like you’d listen to anything I have to say!” He was tempted to set the note on fire without reading any further, but figured it was best to know what his father had planned for him.

‘You will return to Hogwarts at the end of the holidays.’ Sirius’ relief was palpable, but vanished at the next sentence.

‘In March you will return home to finish your education under the direction of a tutor. Unfortunately, he is unable to start before then. However, his great knowledge of charms is essential to prepare you for the work you will do at Les Etoiles. I am pleased that I can finally tailor your education to those fields necessary for you to be successful in our business and that we won’t need to waste time on useless subjects like Transfiguration or DADA. In addition, there will be no need for you to take O.W.L.s.’

Sirius couldn’t believe his eyes. His father’s plan would seriously hinder, if not actually destroy, his hopes to work as an Auror. He wouldn’t have the background, the training, and the test scores to prove his abilities. He imagined the smile on Hadar’s face as he wrote the words designed to ruin his son’s dreams.

‘For now, since the sight of you serves as a constant reminder of your recent vile behavior, we’ve decided to keep you where your presence won’t cause offense, either to us or to any of our guests. I will send notes to your friends telling them you have been taken ill and will not be able to leave the house.’

‘The house elves will deliver food and clothing to you as well as water with which to bathe. I’ve placed silencing charms around the cellar and locking charms on the door. You can’t get out until I release you. 

Do not try to wheedle any favors from the elves! They have been warned not to disobey me!’

Your wand will be returned to you when you leave for Hogwarts.’

‘In the meantime I strongly suggest you spend your time in deep reflection and think about how to turn your life around.’

Sirius read through the note again. Then he stood up, feeling a little residual dizziness from the Stupefying Charm. Carefully he walked to the top of the cellar stairs. The door was locked. He felt the strong magical wards pushing against him. He slowly descended and his glance fell on the two small, ground-level windows above him. Standing on the cot, he hammered at one with his fist. It was like pounding a brick wall. 

Sirius sat down and read the note a third time. It finally began to sink in that his father really had imprisoned him in the cellar. He started to chuckle. The entire situation was so twisted it was funny. Who would believe this? They were going to jail him for the entire holiday break in the cellar? Maybe he’d be fed bread and water. He laughed. And the elves would bring him water with which to bathe? Did that mean no trips to the bathroom? Or would he be allowed out to use a toilet? Somehow, he couldn’t imagine his parents wanted him to soil any part of their precious house with his bodily wastes. He laughed harder, hearing the slight edge of hysteria in his voice.

Or maybe his father had gone completely insane. 

Sirius stopped laughing and a swirl of emotions and memories flashed past his mind’s eye. How had they ever come to this? He sat silently for a long time, thinking and remembering so many instances of disapproval and rejection. What it all boiled down to was that they felt they were entitled to control him – his destiny, his decisions, and his choice of life partner. His entire being must be placed like a burnt offering on the altar of Les Etoiles. 

A sudden epiphany took Sirius’ breath away. James’ parents, Harold and Angela Potter, were better parents to him than those people upstairs. How had they come to this? It was so screwed up. 

Sirius jumped to his feet, feeling trapped at having nowhere to go. His mind flew back to the scene with his parents in his father’s office. He started pacing tensely back and forth across the cellar floor. Anger again boiled up in him as remembered the look of utter loathing on Hadar’s face when he spoke so disparagingly of Remus. Sirius pounded the walls in impotent fury. Hadar Black was seen as a successful, upstanding member of the community. Remus Lupin would be considered a monster. The unfairness of it all sent flames of unbridled fury through him.

“Fuck you!!” He screamed into the darkness. “I fucking hate you!! You’re the fucking monster, not him!!” 

Sirius imagined hexing his parents into immobility, and then rampaging through the house, breaking and crushing and destroying everything he could get his hands on. He whipped back and forth through his prison, mentally entering each room in the dwelling above him and destroying everything in his path. He’d smash chairs and throw the bits into mirrors. He’d fling the expensive crystal onto the floor. He’d rip the paintings from the walls and hurl them through the windows. He’d burn the expensive gowns and tasteful suits in his parents’ closets and toss every bit of jewelry he could find into the flames. He’d-

Sirius stopped short, and leaned heavily against the wall. He took several deep breaths and forced himself back under control. This was no help. He was playing right into his father’s hands by letting his anger run away with him. What he had to do was come up with a plan to thwart his father’s stated intentions. A vague idea started to take form. It was like suddenly finding a barely discernable path in the depths of the Forbidden Forest, a way out of the wilderness. And the first step would be to accept the terms of his imprisonment. He wouldn’t try to break out. He wouldn’t attempt to suborn the elves into doing him favors. He’d act docile and compliant. He’d avoid giving his father any further ammunition to use against him or, God forbid, to prevent Sirius from ever returning to Hogwarts. 

At all costs, Sirius felt he had to get back to school. He would talk to Headmaster Dumbledore and explain the situation. He knew that he was considered a minor until his seventeenth birthday, which was only a few months away. But, after that? ‘Can he legally force me to stay at home? What if he can’t? What if I’m legally free to leave, but he refuses to pay for school or give me any support? What if he disowns me? Could I owe the school and pay them back once I’m working? Could I go to school part time and work part time? Maybe the Potters would let me stay with them.’

Sirius mind raced through the possibilities, and suddenly things didn’t seem quite so bleak. There had to be a way out of the prison his parents wished to force him into. He’d figure it out. All he had to do now was be a good boy, and put up with his father’s little games. Maybe he’d at least be able to talk the elves into bringing him some additional candles and something to read. In the meantime, he’d ignore the sick feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he thought about what his parents were doing to him. He was tough enough to handle this.

~~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

The holidays passed slowly. The elves brought food twice a day. Fresh clothes and a pail of water for bathing arrived once a day. At the same time the elves would check to see if the bucket in the corner needed emptying. Sirius discovered early on that this was all the plumbing he was permitted. He gritted his teeth and used it. He felt bad for the elves as they were obviously disturbed at his entire situation. In fact, they seemed more embarrassed about this than he was. Sirius turned it to his advantage, playing up to their distress for him. He had been able to prevail upon Geddy to slip him copies of the Daily Prophet and any other reading material his parents were throwing out. But, he didn’t push too hard, as he didn’t want to run the risk of getting any of them in trouble.

Sirius tried to set a routine to give his days some structure. He spent time doing exercises to keep himself limber. He played word games, trying to think of anagrams for the names of spells and potions. He alphabetized every single potion ingredient he’d ever heard of and then made up stories about them. 

At least the Daily Prophet kept him up to date. He did the crossword puzzles in his head, as he had no writing implements. And he tried to keep his emotions in check, smothering his anger and drowning his hurt, as he had so many times before. But, it was harder now. 

He made small marks on the wall, counting off the days until he’d be freed to return to school. The miniature calendar filled him with hope and trepidation. Hope that he’d soon be released and trepidation that his parents would change their minds at the last moment and not let him go back to Hogwarts.

It was late afternoon on Saturday, the day before he’d discover his immediate fate. The cellar door opened. Sirius snapped to alertness, as this was not feeding time. 

“Sirius, come upstairs,” Hadar’s voice commanded. 

For several seconds Sirius considered refusing. But, the thought of getting out of the cellar, even if only for a moment, was too appealing. Warily, Sirius climbed the stairs. He saw his father’s lip curl with distaste. 

“You’re in desperate need of a shower and a shave.”

‘No shit, Sherlock,’ Sirius thought mutinously. But he said mildly, “Are you simply making an observation or are you permitting me to use a bathroom?”

Hadar’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be smart with me, lad. Go clean yourself up and put on the clothes laid out for you on your bed. I’m taking you with me to dinner with Anders Groot. He’s our best source for diamonds and he’s also the hardest bargainer I’ve ever dealt with. He specifically asked that you join us for dinner. He finds you amusing.”

Sirius remembered meeting Groot at several of his parents’ parties, a tall, but rotund man with thin, lank, receding hair and piercing, hawkish eyes that had always made Sirius feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t remember spending more than a few seconds talking with Anders, so it was a mystery why Anders seemed to like him. Dinner promised to be a tedious affair. But, at least he was out. He’d be clean and he’d have a decent meal.

An hour later, Sirius joined his parents in the drawing room. He was thoroughly scrubbed and squeaky clean. It felt great. Plus, tomorrow, he’d be with Remus. The silent repetition of that name and all the feelings it evoked in his heart buoyed his spirits. His father handed him a glass of wine. 

“As it’s your last night home before you go back to that school, let us try to keep things on an even keel, shall we?”

“Sure, Dad.” 

The wine was strangely sweet, but that was easy to overlook, especially since his parents seemed almost pleased to spend some time with him. Evidently, they wanted to pretend that his sojourn in the cellar had never happened. However, Anthea seemed somewhat nervous. Her gaze flitted around the room, never resting for more than a second on his face. A voice at the back of his mind called out a warning. He ignored it.

After a second glass of wine, Hadar Black stood up. “Well, Sirius, it’s time we were off.”

“Good night,” Anthea said.

Sirius stood and felt a little unbalanced. The wine had evidently gone right to his head. Well, that’s what happens when you drink on an empty stomach. “You’re not coming?” He asked his mother.

“No, it’s ‘Boys’ Night Out’ tonight,” she said quickly as she headed out of the room. She didn’t look at them as she left.

“Ready,son?” Hadar’s smile held a dark glee that made the voice in his head sound an even more strident alarm. But a warning about what? Sirius’ somewhat fuzzy thought processes couldn’t figure it out. 

Within a few hours, it would all be very clear. And, by then, it would be too late.


	9. Fallen Star

The taxi wended its way through the streets of London. The Blacks sat quietly together in the back seat, but, for once the silence didn’t seem brooding or tense to Sirius. He let his mind wander; glad there was no need for verbal battle with his father. 

His senses were acutely attuned to stimuli. The bright lights, the smell of the cab, the sounds of the tires swishing along the damp streets. After his sojourn in the closed, dark world of the cellar, Sirius was not surprised. His sense of touch was especially heightened. His charcoal gray wool trousers felt sleekly soft against his legs. Under his jacket, the cream silk shirt whispered against his chest like smooth, stroking fingers. He imagined Remus’ deft hands on him and felt his nipples harden. Sirius shifted nervously and concentrated on the cityscape around him.

Finally the taxi drew up to one of the converted warehouses on Canary Row. At Sirius’ questioning look, Hadar said, “Anders is hosting us in his company’s London flat.” 

Anders Groot opened the door to the flat and greeted them warmly. “Good evening, gentlemen!” There was the barest hint of an accent in his voice. German? Dutch? Sirius had a quick glimpse of sleek pale wood furniture and banks of windows looking out over the Thames. Anders waved them inside; his moist, fleshy lips curling back to reveal slightly crooked teeth. “I’m so pleased to see you. Especially you, Sirius!”

“Hello, Mr. Groot. Thank you for inviting me,” Sirius politely replied.

“Oh, please, call me Anders.” Groot’s tongue flicked out, spreading a fresh coat of saliva on his lips. “Such a charming young man you’ve raised, Hadar, with most excellent manners. And so handsome! I always knew he’d blossom into a true Black!” He ushered the Blacks in, one meaty hand planted firmly on each of their backs. 

“You were always more sure of that than I was, Anders. I had almost given up hope that he’d ever be the least bit attractive.” Hadar moved quickly to the bar. “We should start with a nice champagne to celebrate the successful end of our negotiations. I’ll open one of the bottles I brought, eh, Anders?”

“Oh, please do. And did your wife prepare that…ah…special potion for me?”

“I have it right here.”

Sirius glanced at Anders, wondering what his mother had prepared for this man whose hard bargaining had often driven his father to distraction. Anders caught the look and said, “For heartburn. It’s a tough business, the jewelry trade.” His hand slid up to rest at the back of Sirius’ neck. “You’re young and strong now, my boy, but after a few years dealing with the cutthroat gem merchants out there, you’ll have aches and pains, too!” 

His hand gave a final squeeze and then Anders turned to help Hadar with the elegant crystal flutes. When they each held one, Hadar raised his glass in a toast. “To closing the deal!”

“To Les Etoiles,” Anders added, “and all of its precious stars.” 

Sirius raised his glass, too, but kept silent. His father was once more smiling at him with that same expression of vicious delight he’d had when they left home. 

Anders pronounced the champagne excellent, but Sirius detected the sweetness that had tainted the wine he had shared with his parents. He kept his criticism to himself, and instead concentrated on not wolfing down handfuls of the savory appetizers spread out before him. Anders’ descriptions of these delectable, little morsels flew right out of Sirius’ head as soon as he heard them, blown away by the aromas wafting off the plates. 

Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol, but Sirius found himself relaxing. Or maybe it was, surprisingly, the opportunity to spend a convivial evening out. Or maybe it reflected his feelings of freedom and release. His mind drifted. It suddenly struck him that he’d received no owl posts from any of his friends. He’d have to remember to check on that, although he was having some difficulty making mental notes to himself.

As dinner progressed, Sirius found it harder and harder to concentrate on the conversation. He was evidently still able to make lucid contributions, as neither of the men gave any indication that he was rambling incoherently. But, as soon as any words left his mouth, he forgot what they were. He had a peculiar and rather uncomfortable feeling of living in the immediate present, where, when a moment passed it left only the most vague impression on his mind.

But, his body seemed newborn to every tactile experience. Everything, from the texture of the toothsome roast beef, to the crisp, clean feel of the linen napkins made his nerve ends dance with delight and cry out for more stimulation.

They were talking about hair. Sirius struggled to hang onto the threads of the conversation, even though they kept slipping away from him, like a handful of wriggling snakes. 

“… too long!” Hadar was saying with a tone of genial exasperation.

“Perhaps, but it makes me jealous all the same,” Anders replied as he stood to fetch coffee. He stopped at Sirius’ chair and smiled at him, licking his lips. One pudgy hand reached out and lightly grasped a fistful of thick, black hair. “I’d pay a high price for beautiful hair like this!”

“You already have,” grinned Hadar, a satisfied gleam flashing across his features.

Sirius blinked; confused by the feelings Groot’s touch aroused in him. The fingers slid through his hair in a gesture as tender as any he’d ever received from Remus. That was wrong, just plain wrong.

Sirius sipped his coffee, mentally shaking his head in an effort to rid himself of his befuddlement. The paramount thought in his mind was that those fingers, those fat, sausage-like digits, had felt good. He wanted them back, winnowing through his hair. It was easier to think about physical sensations than to try to pay attention to the discussion between the two men. That took way too much effort. Dimly he noticed that the edge of his vision was blurred.

Hazily, he watched the men rise from the table. Sirius stood up, too, only to feel a wave of dizziness that made the room spin. But, Anders was there, a strong arm around his waist, supporting him. Through the rushing sound in his ears he heard, “Alright?...easy…inside…lie down…” Sirius tried to form the words to indicate that lying down sounded like a great idea.

And then he was prone, stretched across a bed thinking, ‘If I just close my eyes for a few minutes I’ll be okay am I **that** drunk Dad’s probably pissed can’t hold my liquor doesn’t feel like I’m drunk never felt like this before…’

~ **~** ~ **~** ~*~

Firm fingers scaled up his spine to lightly knead his shoulders, his neck. Mmmm…that felt good. The hands whispered back down to his waist, ghosting up his sides in a touch that made him shiver into the cool sheets. His clothes were gone. He was naked against smooth, wonderfully clean sheets. Sirius couldn’t remember removing his clothes, but that thought was driven out of his head by the mouth against his nape. It explored along his neck, across the top of his shoulder, planting small, moist, sucking kisses against his flesh. The hands slid beneath his chest, burrowing between the sheets and his skin until the inquisitive fingertips found his nipples. Pudgy fingers circling, circling the sensitive buds until they stood upright to be gently tweaked.

Sirius’ breath hissed between his teeth. He felt knees against his hips and sensed the unseen bulk of a body crouched over him, straddling him. And those hands, playing with his body and making sensations sing from his muscles, his very bones, while the mouth sucked and worked at the delicate tissue of his neck. His hips flexed as the hands caressed his firm, smooth arse. Oh, it felt good. 

The hands grasped his hips, tugging and turning him over. Sirius opened his eyes, his vision blurry in the low light from the bedside candles. The talented mouth fastened over his own and he breathed in unfamiliar scents and tastes and a skilled, fluttering tongue that danced and teased the inside of his mouth the same way those magic hands burned his body. He kissed back, his own tongue thrusting into his partner’s mouth, his arms encircling the bulk of…of…a man. It should be Remus but, no, this person was bigger, broader. Sirius’ hands felt layers of flesh gone to seed, muscles turned soft. Not the firm, sleek body of his lover, but someone else. But, it didn’t matter, just as long as that body pushed down on top of him, hard and heavy, pressing him into the mattress and moving, thrusting into his groin, the friction of another hard cock against him so hot and sweet. 

It should be Remus, but the hand encircling his cock knew what it was doing and he didn’t want it to stop, bucking up into its grasp, trapped underneath this man. 

“I should suck you now, yes?” The lightly accented voice warmed his ear.

“Ahng…mmmm….yes.” That was the word. Yes.

Cool air against his chest, exposed now since the man was moving down his body. The fleshy lips left a wet ribbon on his skin like the slimy trail of a slug. But before Sirius could complete that thought a hot, wet tongue swirled against the head of his engorged cock, lapping at the moist tip. And then with a sudden, smooth move his cock disappeared deep into the voracious mouth of Anders Groot. ‘No…’ Sirius thought, his hands ineffectually grabbed at the mattress, the headboard to push himself away, out of the grasp of this man. But the rolling suction pulling at him, the juicy, liquid noises leaking from the quivering fat lips savoring his cock overwhelmed him and he felt himself coming, spurting down the funnel of Groot’s throat and he never wanted it to end.

Gasping to regain his breath, Sirius felt himself rolled over and pulled forward until his vision was filled with a thick cock, its reddened flesh seeming to beg for the soothing caress of a tongue. The heavy musk-drenched scent of sex was a sweet perfume and Sirius knew how it would taste, but he had to be sure, his tongue craved to taste and feel this strange column of flesh. He sampled it with a few delicate licks before fastening his mouth over the head and slowly, oh so slowly easing the thick member into his hungry mouth. He was on his knees curled over between Anders’ legs. Hands held his head still while, with strong, grunting thrusts, the bulky cock pushed in and out of his mouth, sliding past his saliva-slicked lips to ram against the back of his throat. In a small corner of his mind a horrified Sirius tried to break free and run, but his legs were broken, his bones were shattered and he couldn’t crawl away, couldn’t drag himself away from this nightmare. 

But, that was just a tiny part of him, easily ignored. The rest of him gloried in the taste and smell and feel of the rigid flesh fucking his mouth. He thrilled to hear a guttural voice chanting his praises, “Ach…that’s it…Suck it…Take it…Take it in deep… Good boy…Good boy…Good boy…” Reflexively he swallowed as the hot spunk shot down his throat.

Sirius’ mouth milked Anders’ quivering cock for every drop of come, only releasing him once the flesh turned flaccid. Panting, he collapsed on the bed and the surreal quality of the night threatened to overcome him. But, then the hands came back, silently urging him into a warm, strong embrace. His body, cradled against Anders’ bulk, again tingled with the pleasure those skilled hands brought to it. Anders’ mouth locked onto his neck, his crooked teeth worrying the skin, his blubbery lips sucking like a starving man seeking every scrap of meat off a bone. Small bruises formed, mixing pain with pleasure and Sirius reveled in it. Except for the small part of him that retched with revulsion.

Time was meaningless, suborned by the play of caressing fingers setting his flesh afire. Sirius’ muscles rippled and twitched, begging for the silken, burning touch. Murmured words poured into his ears like honey. Whispers telling him of his beauty, chanting psalms to his perfection, an aural caress as sweet as any he’d ever heard.

A hand fondled his arse; slicked fingers entered him. The voice in Sirius’ ears seemed to come from a great distance, only some of its message getting through to him. “Prepare you…beautiful boy…my prize…fuck you…” No, that had to be a mistake. Remus was the only one allowed these intimacies. Disturbed, the broken Sirius in the back of his mind renewed his struggle to escape. He lost. His body craved to be touched and stimulated and satisfied. Hands. Tongue. Cock. Fucking. He wanted to be fucked.

So Sirius whimpered when Anders drew away from him and stood up. A quick kiss shushed him. 

“We will celebrate our union with some trinkets, yes?” He said in the first complete sentence Sirius had understood for a long time. Groot fairly chortled as he brought a small, velvet bag back to the bed. He stood smiling down at the black-haired, long-limbed creature stretched out so delectably before him.

“You want a good, hard, fucking, yes?”

“Yessss,” Sirius hissed.

“You want it bad?”

“Yes.” Except part of him didn’t want it at all.

“You’ll wrap your legs around me and give me that nice, tight arse any way I want it, won’t you?”

“Yes.” ‘No,’ cried the small voice in Sirius’ head.

“Then let us consummate the deal!”

Anders tipped the bag and slowly spilled a glittering shower of falling stars from Sirius’ throat to his groin.

A thin stream of diamonds poured down his body, the stones blinking in the candlelight, flaunting their fiery hearts. They came to rest; some rolling off Sirius onto the sheets, others nestling in the dips and hollows of his body, caught by muscles or hair or sweat, adorning him with the price of his purchase.

Anders dropped the bag and was on him. Inside him, his oiled cock pumping a deep, steady rhythm that made Sirius pant. And still he talked, his words a singsong in time with his thrusts. “To your mother…for her perfect…love potion…Sweet…Wasn’t it?…To your father…for feeding it to you…For giving you…to me…And to you…My handsome star…worth your weight…in diamonds.”

Sirius groaned in ecstasy, as that thick cock rammed into him. The diamonds pressed into his flesh, their bright hardness leaving behind their own bruises. Sirius didn’t care, because he was getting what he wanted. Moaning his pleasure, he drowned out the screams of horror and fury of the broken boy trapped inside his mind.


	10. Missed Chances

Thud. 

Some people chewed their nails when preoccupied with their thoughts. Others twirled a lock of hair around a finger. 

Thud. Thud.

Sirius Black banged his head, against a wall, against the back of his chair, into his fist. Today, his head knocked gently against the wooden bench he sat upon in King’s Cross station, not far from the barrier between tracks 9 and 10. It was early; way too early for him to be able to slide through to get to the steam train on Track 9 ¾ . But he’d had no where else to go after waking up in Anders Groot’s bed this morning. Waking up so nauseous that he’d barely made it into the bathroom before puking up whatever was left in his stomach of food and alcohol. And a love potion. And Anders’ come, the sour dregs of their twisted night together.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Shuddering, Sirius tried not to dwell on that nightmare. Better to lock it away in a secret corner of his brain. Don’t think about what Groot had done, what his parents...

No! Concentrate on other things. Plan how much to tell James and Peter and Remus.

Thinking of Remus made him think of the bite marks and bruises that marred the skin of his neck and shoulders. He’d tried to heal them, standing naked in Groot’s bathroom and not quite recognizing his own shocked visage in the mirror. But, even with his wand, and a decent knowledge of simple healing spells, the marks remained. He’d even tried using glamours to hide them, but to no avail. Maybe this was an additional effect of the love potion he’d unknowingly drunk. 

Just the thought made his mind reel with the remembered sensations of the night before, when he had burned with uncontrollable lust for Groot and they had done everything, used every orifice to… His stomach heaved disturbingly.

How could he tell Remus? What could he tell Remus? How could he look into those wise hazel eyes and spill his guts, and then see the pain of betrayal blossom? Even if none of this was his fault, why should he cause Remus pain, also? How could he confess to the wild, screaming passion he’d felt? That’s what disgusted him the most, that he had begged Groot to use him like the whore he now was.

He heard a low, keening whine. It took him a moment to realize the sound came from his own lungs.

He blushed in shame. Couldn’t he keep it to himself? Just shut up! Keep it inside.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Yes, that was best. Say as little as possible. He was supposed to have been sick, right? That’s what his father had told his friends, once he locked Sirius into the cellar. Yes, that would be his excuse, at least until he had a chance to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore to try and figure out a way to stay at Hogwarts.

In spite of his best efforts, pictures of last night’s events kept popping uncontrollably into Sirius’ mind. Just like wizard photos, the pictures moved. Unlike photos, his memories came complete with smells and sounds and tastes. Anders’ large, overweight bulk thrusting on top of him or the thick, purplish cock throbbing in his face. The sound of his own voice pleading hoarsely to be fucked. 

And then this morning seeing Anders clothed in a luxuriously thick dressing gown cheerfully offering to prepare breakfast, as if the two of them had been on a date. Sirius shivered, thinking about his rapid escape into the bathroom. He could still taste the bile from his stomach at the back of his throat.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Unbeknownst to Sirius, his father had sent over his trunk and his owl. Sirius had rapidly showered and scrambled into his clothes, frantically digging through his trunk to find a turtleneck sweater with which to hide the marks on his neck. Only once had his hands stilled as a thought occurred to him. Then he dug out his camera. Carefully, he focused on the love bites, getting several close shots of the imprints of Anders’ crooked teeth. He wasn’t sure that these would constitute proof of anything, other than that someone had been gnawing on him like he was some sort of toothsome morsel, but, he did it anyway. Once he was clean and clothed, he’d insisted on leaving. Anders had regretfully called him a cab.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Remus Lupin hauled his trunk across the station floor. His parents were on their way to meet up with some old friends visiting from America. They’d dropped him off early at the station. He’d let James and Peter know, just in case they could join him in his longer-than-usual wait for the Hogwarts train. He had also sent a note to Sirius, but, once again had received a brief and rather contradictory note from Hadar Black, stating that Sirius was too ill to write, but that he’d return to school on the train. Although it was comforting to know that James and Peter had received similar messages, somehow Remus couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

But, as he neared the barrier between Tracks 9 and 10, he spied a familiar figure sitting on a bench. Sirius’ eyes were shut tight, Remus noted. He also took in the obvious pallor and the bluish marks beneath the eyes and a certain hidden tension in the angles of Sirius’ body. He didn’t look like he’d slept well. 

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

“You need to be more forceful-“ The unexpected voice looming over him sent a jolt through Sirius that practically made him leap to Track 11 “-if you’re trying to pound some sense…”

Remus’ casual joking came to an uncertain halt. Sirius’ shock and something else, something unexpected and oh, so wrong, made Remus’ words die in his lungs. Guilt. An unholy guilt in the blue-gray eyes made Remus stutter to a stop. They stared at each other.

“Sirius? What’s wrong? What did you do?”

“Remus!” Sirius exhaled sharply. “God, you startled me!”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. No. I’m okay. I mean, I’m better than I was.” Sirius clamped his mouth shut, well aware that he sounded somewhere between hopelessly confused and totally insane. “I’m…I don’t feel all that great…”

Remus slid onto the bench and slipped an uncertain arm around Sirius’ shoulders, gently drawing him close. It was like a lifeline into heaven. “You don’t look well.”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He simply curled into Remus’ body, burrowing his face into the werewolf’s neck, following the magnetic tug of that slender, strong arm. For the first time in weeks, he felt safe.

“Remus, I really missed-“

“Awww! How sweet!” A cold, sneering voice poured over them from above. With a start, the two Gryffindors glanced up and saw Severus Snape’s mocking gaze looking down on them. “It looks like the two poofs missed each other! Poor Siri! Did you miss your Remy?” He slipped two fingers under Sirius’ chin, tilting the black-haired boy’s face up to look him directly in the eyes.

Remus shot to his feet, one hand clamping down hard on the Slytherin’s wrist. His vise-like grip gave him the leverage to push Snape back a few steps. Snape hissed in pain and struggled to pull his hand loose. Remus’ eyes glittered with anger and warning. “Keep your hands off him!”

Snape broke free, and with a muttered imprecation, swept away. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, closing off his vision and shutting down the voice in his brain that said, ‘Tell him what happened to you…’

They hardly had time to sit down together again when they were interrupted by the arrival of different students calling greetings. Sirius tried to ignore everything around him until, sooner than he anticipated, it was time to get on the train.

Once they were in their compartment, Sirius again evaded questions about his vacation, his isolation, his lack of response to their letters. James was particularly pointed in his questioning. Sirius fended him off as long as possible, but James was insistent. “Just how sick were you, that you couldn’t even write a line, a simple one-line letter back to me!?”

Sirius’ only recourse was to play the injured, long-suffering victim. “Sick! I was sick! I could barely lift my head off the pillow! I still feel like I could puke my guts out at any moment, so just shut up and leave me alone!”

It worked. Sirius huddled on a seat, He wrapped his misery around himself and used it as a shield against any more questions. He sat with his eyes closed, resolutely ignoring the low conversation and the muted enthusiasm that his friends shared with each other over their Christmases with their families. The quiet, but cheery atmosphere of the others made him feel even further disconnected with reality. Why did everyone else in the world have perfectly normal holiday celebrations? Just what the hell was wrong with him? What oozing sickness did he have that made his family prefer to keep him shut up in the cellar than have to look him in the face? What made them decide that it made sense to sell him for a shipment of diamonds-

A hand touched his face. “Sirius? What is it?”

He bolted upright, realizing too late that his pain had escaped him in a low moan. His friends hovered over him, their expressions filled with concern. They didn’t know. They didn’t know how disgusting he was. How depraved, that he could want the attentions of someone like Anders Groot, when he already had someone as incomparably beautiful as Remus. He was scum. His parents were right. He was a worthless, disgusting little toe-rag who could glory in the attentions of a grunting, heaving lump like Groot, with his rubbery, wet lips and his squishy flesh and his thick, quivering cock…And the bile rose once more in Sirius’ throat as he hurled himself towards the door of the compartment, wrenching it open and careening down the corridor towards the boys’ bathroom. And once there, he dry retched for long, painful minutes, his body trying to rid itself of the poisons that still lurked in his mind. 

Stumbling back to their compartment, Sirius collapsed into a corner. Remus came over and sat next to him. 

“Is there anything I can do for you, Paddy?”

“I’m fine, Remus I just need some sleep.”

“You’re not fine, love,” Remus murmured so only Sirius could hear. “Not at all. I can see you’re not feeling well, but there’s something else bothering you. What is it? Let me help you.”

The tender concern in his voice was almost too much for Sirius to bear. How he wanted to curl up in Remus’ arms and drink in comfort and affection. And tell him everything. But, he simply couldn’t.

“Please leave me alone, Remus.” His tone was harsher than he had meant it to be, but it served its purpose. Remus retreated to the other side of the compartment, shrugging at James’ and Peter’s raised eyebrows.

Once they finally got to Hogwarts, Sirius fled to their dorm room, rather than go to dinner. The thought of looking at the huge mounds of food typical of a Hogwarts meal sickened him. He pulled on his pajamas and crawled into the cocoon behind the bed hangings. Sleep, however, didn’t come. He lay awake, staring at the canopy arching over his head. Was it really only twenty-four hours ago that he had ridden in a taxi with his father, the unknown potion already taking hold of his body? 

Another thought rose unbidden into his mind. Did the initial idea come from his father or Groot? Which of them had first proposed using him as a bargaining chip? 

It was just as well the darkness limited his vision. Had it been light, he wouldn’t have been able to see through his tears.

Sirius didn’t sleep.

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~

After tossing and turning all night he got up early on Monday morning and crept quietly towards the bathroom. He wanted to make sure he was showered and dressed before anyone had a chance to see the unwanted marks on his flesh. His stomach still felt off, but that was probably more from hunger than anything else. 

Sirius concentrated so hard on quickly toweling off and scrambling into his clothes that he didn’t notice someone else had entered the bathroom. Turning slightly, his eyes caught a small movement reflected in the mirror. Remus stood across the room staring at him. Not looking into his face, but focused lower on the parts of him that had just been covered by his shirt.

Sirius felt as if every molecule of oxygen had rushed from the room. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything to wipe that look of betrayed revulsion off Remus’ face. But, before he could manage to croak out any words at all, Remus spun around and left.

Breakfast was uncomfortable in the extreme. Remus refused to address Sirius or to even glance in his direction. The tension between the two was so palpable that it seemed everyone at the Gryffindor table was shooting questioning looks at them. James and Peter manfully struggled to keep up the façade that nothing was wrong, but they fooled no one.

The Hall filled with the sound of owls flying in to deliver mail. A bird unknown to Sirius landed the back of his chair. It extended its leg, on which was tied a somewhat lumpy parchment. Sirius unfastened it and wondered how much worse his day was going to get. The owl flew off.

Inside the envelope was a note from Anders Groot and a small, velvet bag. Sirius clutched the bag in his fist and felt several hard pebbles. He knew. He just knew what they were, but he had to look. After carefully easing the drawstrings of the bag open, he quickly dumped its contents into his hand. Diamonds. Three small, perfectly faceted diamonds.

He tossed them back in the bag and slid it deep into a pocket of his robes. He hardly dared to look at the note, but knew he must. 

‘My dear Sirius,

I wished to thank you for a perfectly splendid night. To that end, I’ve taken the liberty of enclosing several baubles as a token of my appreciation. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a delightfully exquisite bedmate. Your beauty is rivaled only by the talents of your hands, your mouth and your tongue. A rare combination, indeed, that one so young and fresh possesses such a sensual knowledge of how to pleasure a partner.

Your father’s suggestion to sweeten the bid for my diamonds by adding you into the mix lent a certain piquancy to our negotiations. He assured me that the exchange of your body for my gems would please me a great deal. He was quite right. And now that I have tasted your charms, I would not be at all averse to including you as a permanent clause in the ‘gentlemen’s agreements’ between your esteemed father and myself. If that is not acceptable to you, I admit I’d settle for the occasional evening together whenever we are both in London.

For now, sweet Sirius, let me once more tender my thanks to you. 

Sincerely,

Anders’

This was sick! Sirius crumpled the parchment and shoved it into his pocket, his heart pounding. So, it was his father who had proposed selling him. Sirius’ eyes bore into the table as he tried to quell the absolute rage shaking him to his core. He knew people were staring at him. Except Remus, who was wrapped up in his own anger. The minutes ticked by and no one spoke. Sirius was sure that if he opened his mouth, his words would drown in a scream. He concentrated on breathing. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. As he forced his anger back, he knew he had to tell Remus. But, not with all these people around.

Finally, the start time for the first class of the day drew nearer and everyone prepared to leave, except Remus and Sirius, who both sat immobile. Remus stared stonily into space. Sirius, his impassive mask cracking, finally leaned forward and grabbed Remus’ arm. “I’ve got to talk to you. About what happened.”

Peter interjected as he hoisted his book bag over his shoulder. “When what happened? Last night? This morning? You two seemed – “

“I know perfectly well what happened.” Remus cool, menacing tones ripped beneath Peter’s light chatter like the claws of a cat slicing the song from a bird’s throat.

“No, you don’t.” Sirius shook his head, a certain note of panic in his voice. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I need to tell you-“

“Why?! To make yourself feel better?! You don’t like wallowing in your own guilt? Is that it? Well, I don’t want to hear it!!” Remus yelled, lurching to his feet and attracting glances from other students. He leaned over, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. He whispered, “Just say yes or no. Was he good? Did you enjoy yourself?”

‘Remus, don’t…please give me a chance to…“

“Shut up!” Remus whispered and turned on his heel. James and Peter hovered uncertainly and Sirius waved them on. He knew they’d try their best to be nice, but he simply couldn’t deal with that right now. Instead he headed up towards the Head Table. Dumbledore, for some reason, had not appeared for breakfast. Sirius’ desperation mounted.

He approached Professor McGonagall as she strode purposefully towards the door. 

“Professor?”

She answered in clipped tones. “What is it, Mr. Black?”

“Ummm. Headmaster Dumbledore. He’s not…ummm. Can you tell me where he is?”

A challenging black brow rose. “Why should the Headmaster’s whereabouts be any of your concern?”

Sirius shook his head, feeling distress writhe inside him. “Well, I need to see him. To talk about something…” His voice trailed off. “Is he…Can I…” He sighed in frustration. “Do you know when I might be able to make an appointment with him?”

There was an infinitesimal softening to McGonagall’s posture. “He’s away on a personal matter, but he’ll be back by dinner tomorrow.” She was surprised by his wince. But, it was gone in a flash.

Sirius nodded. “Thank you, Professor.” He turned to go. Something about him disturbed McGonagall. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but there was something very off-kilter about her most talented and most exasperating student.

“Mr. Black!” She called after him. Slowly he came back to her. 

In a quiet, but much warmer tone she asked, ”Is something wrong, Mr. Black?”

He seemed to consider the question for a moment and then the impassive façade once more settled over his features. “No, Ma’am. It’s nothing urgent. It can wait until the Headmaster returns.”

He made to leave once more and this time, she reached out to grasp his arm. “Sirius? I am here to help, as well as teach. What’s troubling you?”

A strange, haunted look swept across his face and was gone. “It’s nothing, Professor. I better get going or I’ll be late for class.”

She let him go, but was not at all reassured by his words. She swept past him as he hurriedly gathered his school material. She didn’t see the piece of parchment that slipped from his pocket. He didn’t notice it either as he hurried down the aisle. 

Severus Snape saw it fall. On his way out, he scooped up the note. He read it as he left the Great Hall and he smiled.


	11. The Note

James abruptly pulled Remus into an empty classroom.

“What are you doing, James? I’m going to be late for Arithmancy.” Remus snapped. He’d been bubbling like a deadly potion boiling in a cauldron all day.

“Oh, calm down. You and Sirius are driving me nuts. What the hell is going on with you two?”

Remus glared at him with such ferocity that James took a half step back. Belatedly he remembered the full moon was tonight. 

“You want to know what happened?” Remus snarled. “Ask Sirius. He tells you everything, doesn’t he? Go talk to him! Maybe the two of you can put your heads together and come up with a plausible excuse! Even if you can’t, you’ll probably get a good laugh about how stupid the werewolf is!”

Remus pushed past James as the dark-haired boy asked in confusion, “An excuse? What are you...Remus, wait!”

The shorter boy halted, but didn’t turn around. Tentatively, James touched Remus’ shoulder as he slowly walked around to peer into the livid face. That fine-boned, expressive face was not made to reflect this level of anger. It hurt to see it. “Listen, Remus. I can see you’re really furious right now. But, there is a full moon tonight, and you know that usually makes your emotions a little over the top.”

James realized too late he’d made a mistake.

“None of this is my fault, Potter! Don’t you dare blame what I am for what Sirius did!” He was shaking. “Sirius wasn’t sick! He was busy fucking someone…” He let the sentence die as his hurt momentarily overcame his anger. “And I believed him when he said he loved…” Remus started to stalk off, but spun around on a fresh wave of fury to glare at James once more. “And another thing! I want all of you to just bugger off tonight! Just stay the fuck away from me!”

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

Sirius had a pounding headache. He couldn’t concentrate on his classes. Angry, painful, confused thoughts swirled like a maelstrom in his head, threatening to overwhelm him. His parents, Groot. And Dumbledore wasn’t here, and Binns kept droning on and Remus’ implacable anger lit up one side of the room. It was all beginning to take on an air of unreality. He slipped his hand in his pocket, knowing Groot’s note would make it all real to him again.

The note was gone. 

Sirius’ hands scrabbled through both pockets in his robes. Nothing except the small bag of diamonds. He didn’t drop the note somewhere in the corridors, did he? Frantically he burrowed through his book bag. It had to be here. Somewhere. 

It wasn’t.

The note had his name on it. If anyone found it…Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck… 

Why hadn’t he incinerated it? What the hell had he been thinking? And, now, how would he find it?

He’d retrace his steps and go over every bit of ground that he’d covered since breakfast. He had to do it now. That meant skiving off McGonagall’s class. Well, he had to. He had to find that fucking note!

Without any warning, Sirius slipped out of his seat and left the room. Binns droned on, oblivious.

His footfalls sounding loud in his ears down the empty corridor, Sirius began reconstructing his travels, his eyes darting into every dim corner looking for the pale piece of parchment with no success.

The halls began to fill with students heading to their last class of the day. Sirius pushed through them, an edge of panic starting to set in. He didn’t even notice Snape until the Slytherin was right next to him. 

“From me to you, Black,” he breathed, slipping a piece of parchment into Sirius’ hand. Then he strode down the hall without a backward glance.

Sirius’ stomach dropped to the floor. Fuck! Why did it have to be Snape who found the note?

But, no, this wasn’t his note. This parchment was smooth and unflawed. Maybe it was some stupid joke, a hexed bit of paper. ‘Fine. Who cares? Let it turn my hair green or give me boils….’

Sirius opened it and saw Snape’s firm handwriting. 

‘Black,

I came across an interesting piece of mail with your name on it. If you want it back, meet me tonight at 7:00 behind the greenhouses. Come alone. 

I have not yet shown it to anyone else. If you don’t show up, it’ll be all over school tomorrow.

SS’

“FUCK!!” 

~~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

Dumbledore appeared, a little late, at dinner. Seeing the Headmaster show up a day earlier than expected gave Sirius the first glimmer of hope he’d had since returning to school. He’d try to see Dumbledore tonight. But first he had to talk to Snape.

At 6:55 Sirius showed up behind the greenhouses, his breath clouding around his head in the sharp winter air. Snape was nowhere to be seen. The first edge of the full moon rose above the horizon. Sirius paced nervously through the snow. He stopped abruptly as Snape glided up. 

“Right on time, Black. I do admire punctuality. But, then, I suppose you’re eager to get that letter back in your hands.”

“What do you want, Snape?” Sirius couldn’t see his adversary’s face clearly in the dim light, but he was sure he saw a pleased, little smile.

“Didn’t take you long to get to the bargaining part, did it, Black?” Snape’s head tilted to one side. “What do I want?” He mused aloud. A muscle at the corner of Sirius’ eye twitched with impatience.

“Well, for starters, it’s much too dark here. The moon’s not high enough yet to illuminate our little tete-a-tete. And I want to watch you while we talk. I want to see you try to keep up that cool, collected façade. Because we both know what’s behind it, don’t we? Raise your wand and light up your pretty face, Black.”

After a few moments hesitation, Sirius muttered “Lumos.” He tried to hide that he was gritting his teeth in suppressed anger.

Snape’s face shone with a smile of pure joy as he stared at Sirius. “This note gave some interesting insights into the workings of your family business, Black. What a story to tell the Daily Prophet! I can just see the headline – ‘Stars for Sale! Black Sells Son for Diamonds!’ Does Daddy sell your sister too, or is it just you?”

Sirius didn’t reply.

“Nothing to say? If you want that note, you’ll answer my questions. And you’ll be polite and respectful at all times.” He slowly paced once around Sirius, the snow crunching under his boots. “Let’s try again. Are both you and your sister whores for Les Etoiles?”

Sirius drew in one silent, deep, steadying breath. “No.”

“It’s just you, then. Hmmm. I wonder what Daddy does if he needs to offer an additional incentive to a woman? I mean, knowing your predilections, would you even know what to do with a woman? Or does Daddy sell you to men only?”

“Forget your twisted, little fantasies, Snape! You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sirius struggled to keep his voice level.

“Fantasies? Oh, no, I don’t think so. I think the note made it very clear. Your client was quite effusive in his praise of your performance. Or, should I say, of his purchase.” His voice stretched the last syllable into a low hiss. He leaned in close to whisper in Sirius’ ear. “My sweet Sirius. Isn’t that what he called you? What else did the note say? That your beauty is rivaled only by the talents of your hands, your mouth and your tongue? That he’d like to include you as a permanent clause in the ‘gentlemen’s agreements’ with your father? Is that what the note said, sweet Sirius?”

Snape couldn’t hear the snarling voice inside Sirius’ head. ‘I hate you, you fucking perverted little prick!’

“Yes.” Sirius muttered aloud.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t hear you clearly.”

“Yes!” Sirius spat out the word. Snape resumed his measured strides, circling Sirius, a predator intent on his prey.

“Then you freely admit you were a whore for your father? That he’s your pimp?” Snape didn’t bother trying to hide the amusement in his voice. Sirius’ free hand clenched into a fist. Again he felt rage boiling through his veins. His mind leaped crazily, seeking some way to respond that would leave him at least a shred of dignity. He didn’t see one.

“This never happened before, Snape.”

A disbelieving snicker came over his shoulder. “A likely story. But, never mind. The important part is that you admit you’re a whore, don’t you?” Snape stopped, standing in front of Sirius. “Don’t you?”

‘Just give him what he wants and he’ll get tired of the game,’ Sirius thought. Aloud he said, “Yes.”

Snape’s black eyes bored into Sirius’ face. He raised one hand and cupped it gently across Sirius’ cheek. Sirius couldn’t keep quite still, instinctively snapping his head away from the unwanted touch. But the hand followed him, claimed his face again. Snape’s thumb tenderly stroked Sirius’ lips and he purred, “Then say it. Tell me what you are, Black.” 

Sirius felt frissons of electricity jerking through his muscles as he struggled to keep himself from leaping at his hated rival. Snape saw him tremble and a look of pure satisfaction crossed his face. Sirius was a hairsbreadth away from pounding him into a bloody mess. Steadily he said, “I’m a whore.”

Smiling triumphantly, Snape whispered, “Good boy.” Groot’s voice echoed in Sirius’ brain. “good boy…good boy…”

“You know, Black. Maybe I **should put your talents to good use.” Snape resumed walking his slow circles. “I could keep that note as collateral for your obedience while I sell you to the highest bidder. I’m sure there are one or two young men at Hogwarts who’d love to fuck you. Slytherins, of course. I wouldn’t want to sully your body with mixed breed or Mudblood cocks.”**

“You’re a sick bastard, Snape! You-“

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Don’t anger me, Black,” Snape said warningly, waving an admonitory finger in Sirius’ face. After a moment he continued, his voice calmly conversational. “Oh, yes. I quite like the idea of making you serve whomever I wish. And, really, the money isn’t important, although the thought of someone handing me cash to get my **permission to use** your* body is quite appealing.” 

Sirius could feel the muscles of his jaw quivering. He knew Snape could see it, too, as evidenced by his delighted grin. 

“No, it’s the power to make you do what I want. I can play with you. You’re my toy. My bright, shiny new toy. And, of course, I’ll share you with my friends. Should I charge them? No, I think not. I think they can have you for free. I know Lestrange isn’t doing anything right now. Let’s go find him, shall we? We’d both love to see the look on your face when I tell you to get down on your knees and suck his cock.”

The phrase ‘seeing red’ suddenly made sense. Sirius’ vision seemed tinged with blood as he exerted a supreme effort to hold his rage in check. Fuck it. Snape didn’t want to bargain; he wanted to humiliate. It was time to call his bluff.

“Forget it, Snape! If Lestrange needs a fuck, why don’t you bend over for him?” Sirius started walking back to the castle.

“Black! I’m warning you! Take one more step and I’ll make the note public!”

Sirius stopped and growled, “Then name your price, Snape. And do it now.”

Snape hesitated for just a second, but it was enough for Sirius to sense a slight wavering in his resolve. A little of his confidence returned. He had the measure of his adversary.

“Alright, then,” Snape said slowly, his demeanor once more smoothly assured. “What do I want from you in exchange for the note? What do I really want?”

Sirius suddenly knew what Snape would demand. It was what he had been seeking for years. The taunting had been for his own dark amusement and to mislead Sirius into a greater willingness to reveal what he knew and what Snape desperately wanted to know. Sirius almost smiled. It was perfect. Snape wouldn’t be amused for long. And, if Remus wouldn’t even talk to him, wouldn’t give him a chance to explain, then he could bloody well deal with the consequences when Snape came trotting up the tunnel. Fuck both of them! Just ask the question, Snape.

Snape leaned close to him. “Tell me where Lupin goes every month and I’ll keep quiet about the note.”

Joy surged through Sirius. ‘Got you, you bastard! And won’t you be surprised to find what’s waiting for you?’ He didn’t speak right away. Let Snape think he still had the upper hand. He delayed a few more seconds and then said, “He goes through a passage under the Whomping Willow. He’s there tonight.” 

Snape’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sirius waited for several heartbeats, and then made the offer he knew Snape wouldn’t be able to resist. “Give me the note and I’ll show you how to get in.”

Snape thought about the offer, examined it from all sides to detect any tricks. He saw none. Snape nodded. “Done. I’ll hand it over when I’m in the passageway.” 

Warily, they crossed the grounds side-by-side. Once near the tree, Snape called out “Accio parchment!” and the note flew into his hands from where it had lain hidden under some bushes. He held it up for Sirius to see. The Gryffindor nodded, and, grabbing a long branch, pushed at a knot at the base of the tree.

As Snape handed the note back, he warned, “If you’ve double-crossed me, I’ll tell everyone about what your Daddy does with you, whore!”

“I haven’t double-crossed you,” Sirius muttered, trying his best to sound defeated. Snape vanished into the passageway. Sirius, note in hand, walked back towards the Castle.

Two people pausing in a third-floor hallway noticed the figures by the Willow. Cupping their hands around their faces to cut off the light from the torches on the wall, Peter and James tried to figure out who would be lurking around the tree. “It’s Sirius.” Peter said. “But who’s that with him? It can’t be-“

“It’s Snape!” James’ exclamation confirmed Peter’s suspicions. “But what are they doing? Sirius wouldn’t…Bloody, fucking hell!! Is he insane?! “ 

James sprinted for the stairs, heading for the front door. “Get Dumbledore!” He shouted over his shoulder. Peter ran for the Headmaster’s office.


	12. Crumbling

There was not the slightest twinkle in the icy blue of the Headmaster’s eyes. He sat at his desk staring at Sirius, who was seated before him, eyes downcast.

“Look at me when I address you!” Dumbledore reprimanded him sharply.

Sirius raised his head to face the cold regard of the one person on whom he had pinned his hopes. The adrenalin rush from the encounter with Snape had dissipated quickly once he got inside, once James had come pelting past him, yelling at him as he ran. “You stupid, fucking asshole!”

Now all he tasted was bitter hopelessness at the tangled morass in which he found himself. And, he had only made it worse. He’d probably be expelled. Not that his parents would care. They’d just be annoyed at the shame of expulsion and the fact that Sirius would be hanging around the house until the tutor arrived in March. Maybe he’d be forced to live in the cellar until then. A sickened laugh escaped him.

“I’d be most interested to know exactly what part of your activities this evening you find so amusing, Mr. Black,” Dumbledore said darkly. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly behind the Headmaster, her face pinched with disapproval and disappointment. Professor Faustus, head of Slytherin House, stood with her, his expression hidden behind his heavily lidded eyes.

Sirius finally realized that Dumbledore was waiting for an answer. “I wasn’t laughing because I think it’s funny. I was laughing because…I don’t know what else to do. It’s all such a mess.”

“A mess?!” The anger in Dumbledore’s voice was unmistakable. “That hardly does the situation justice. You endangered not only the well-being, but the lives of two of your schoolmates, one of whom is supposedly your best friend. You revealed Remus Lupin’s secret, a secret that everyone in a position of authority at this school has sought to protect in order for us to give him the education he deserves. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but Mr. Lupin recently became more than a friend to you, did he not? Is this the result of a lovers’ spat?”

“No, sir.” Sirius said, barely above a whisper.

“Then why did you do this?”

Sirius honestly had no idea how to answer that question. Where should he start? With Snape’s taunting? With Remus’ unwillingness to listen? With his horrific Christmas vacation? With his blind anger? With his fury at how he’d been used? With his hurt and confusion as to why his parents had treated him like that? His tortured thoughts were reflected in the series of expressions that flitted across his face.

“I don’t…I can’t…” Sirius’ eyes dropped to the floor once more as one shoulder lifted in a shrug.

“Nothing to say? According to Mr. Snape, you were quite persuasive in getting him to enter the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. He said you told him that one of his friends, Mr. Lestrange, was in trouble, and that, if he had any kind of courage at all, he’d get down that tunnel to help his friend get out.”

Sirius’ head shot up, anger sparking from his eyes, and snarled, “He’s a liar!”

Dumbledore glared right back at the black-haired bundle of emotions that threatened to explode in front of him. The freezing fire in his eyes held a power known to have stopped many forceful wizards in their tracks. It had no discernable effect on the troubled boy facing him, a fact Dumbledore noted.

“I hardly think you are in a position to be hurling accusations at anyone, Mr. Black! Especially as you refuse to answer my questions!”

Sirius was on his feet, and for a crazy moment Dumbledore thought he was about to launch himself across the desk. “I told you what you what you wanted to know! I admitted it! I sent Snape into the tunnel! What more do you want? Just expel me and be done with it!”

He collapsed back into his chair, his rage gone as quickly as it had come. Sirius didn’t appear remotely threatening now, his pallor emphasized by the darkness of his hair, and the blue smudges under his eyes. Dumbledore couldn’t remember ever seeing Sirius so high-strung. He finally put his finger on what bothered him about Black’s attitude. It wasn’t the anger or the refusal to answer questions. It was the underlying fragility that threatened to shatter with the weight of whatever he was keeping locked up inside.

“Headmaster, if I may,” McGonagall interrupted. “Mr. Black, you were very anxious to see Professor Dumbledore this morning. Why was that?”

His lips twisted in a sick parody of a smile. “Because my father intends to take me out of school in March. I wanted to ask if there was some way he could be prevented from doing that.” Sirius laughed weakly again at the irony of it. “I guess it’s a little late for that discussion, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Dumbledore asked.

Sirius frowned in confusion. “Well, I’ll be expelled for this, won’t I?”

Dumbledore drew in a deep breath. “I try not to make hasty judgments, especially about something as important as expulsion. The longer I watch and listen to you, Mr. Black, the more convinced I am that this was not an elaborate plot. I don’t think you returned from your holidays with a plan to serve up Severus Snape to a werewolf. Especially as that werewolf is someone you care deeply about.”

Sirius said nothing.

“Mr. Black, something led up to this incident, something that you are reluctant to share with us. I need to try to ascertain the facts. I need to try to find the truth among the different impressions and different motivations of the people involved. I have heard what Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Snape had to say about tonight’s events. I’m waiting to hear your explanation.”

Sirius held Dumbledore’s regard, but still made no reply. Something had crumbled inside him and he hardly recognized himself. Had the situation not been as dire as it was, all three adults would have found this sudden collapse of Sirius’ usual cool reserve into roiling emotion quite fascinating. Instead, they all found it disturbing. They had enough experience with teenagers to sense that something had gone horribly wrong in this young man’s life.

Again McGonagall broke in. “Did something happen over the Christmas holidays?”

Sirius’ eyes flicked to her face and then darted away to focus on the fire. The sound of the logs crackling merrily was the only sound in the room as the adults watched Sirius struggle with the decision to speak or to keep his secrets hidden. Making an obvious effort to force himself to come out in the open, he whispered, “Yes.” 

And, he dug quickly through his pockets, as if he didn’t want to give himself time to change his mind. He handed over the note and the small bag of diamonds. The other three huddled together. They read the wrinkled parchment and looked at the diamonds. Sirius watched them, feeling the strength and fight seep out of him. Nothing mattered anymore. He had never felt so alone. He braced himself for their disbelief. 

Professor Faustus asked, “Do you have any other proof of this…event, Mr. Black?” 

The evenness of his tone surprised Sirius. He didn’t respond for a second, and then loosened his robe and undid the top buttons on his shirt. Pulling them aside, he exposed the bite marks. They must have started to fade, he realized, as he saw the professors lean forward and squint at his injuries. “I have pictures. I took them the next morning. Groot’s teeth…I mean Anders’ teeth, are crooked. You can see the patterns they made...” His voice drifted away because he really didn’t want to encourage them to peer too closely at him. The thought of more adults poring over his flesh made him cringe.

Dumbledore asked quietly, “Did you agree to participate in this arrangement, Mr. Black?”

“NO!” His anger roaring back, Sirius again leaped to his feet. “They slipped me a potion! A love potion! So they could sell me!” He flung himself back in his chair, trying to regain his control. God, what did it matter anymore? Everyone thought he was a happy, little whore, eagerly leaping into bed with anyone to whom his parents wished to sell him. He stared at the floor, feeling sick. The pattern of the carpet blurred. He blinked rapidly. He wouldn’t cry. He refused to cry in front of them. He didn’t see the looks of shock that had registered on their faces.

Dumbledore went to his fireplace and called Madame Pomfrey. They conversed quietly for a few moments through the fire and then she disappeared. Dumbledore turned to address his visitors.

“Madame Pomfrey can do some tests to see just what sort of potion you were given, Mr. Black. While we wait for her to get here-“

Sirius’ head tilted up, his eyes wary. “You believe me?” He interrupted.

“I am inclined to believe you,” Dumbledore replied, and it seemed to Sirius that some of the iciness had gone from the Headmaster’s manner. “Madame Pomfrey will find the proof.”

At that moment the Hospital matron emerged from the fireplace. She drew some blood from Sirius’ arm into a vial. Then she said, “Headmaster, Mr. Black must also give me a urine sample. May he use the bathroom?” 

“Of course.” Beaker in hand, a mortified Sirius followed Dumbledore down a short hallway to simply decorated bathroom. When he was done, he returned to the office. Madame Pomfrey took the sample from him saying, “This should tell us exactly was in that potion. But, if, for some reason there are any questions, I may need to do another test. That would require a sample of your sperm, Mr. Black. I’ll let you know.” In her precise, competent way, she gathered her materials and Floo’d back to the Hospital.

Sirius returned to his seat, cheeks reddened with embarrassment. His eyes jumped around the room, as he wasn’t quite ready to look directly at his professors. It struck him that several of the portraits of past Headmasters were empty.

Seated once more, Dumbledore said, “Sirius, are you ready to tell us what happened?”

Sirius quietly told his tale, starting from when his father had stunned him and locked him into the cellar. They occasionally interrupted with questions. None of the three adults gave a hint to their thoughts. Sirius would have been surprised to learn that they were all worried about him. About halfway through, one of the missing Headmasters flurried into his frame. Dumbledore calmly raised his hand for silence and allowed Sirius to finish speaking.

Then the Headmaster turned to the picture of Elias Hepplewaite, who by now was bobbing up and down with his efforts to remain silent. “Elias, have you discovered something?” Dumbledore asked, hating to state the obvious.

“Yes! Two portraits told me essentially the same story. Sir Henry Blount on the fifth floor, and Violet Beauchamps near the entrance to the Slytherin common room both said they heard Mr. Snape telling a friend he’d found a note written to Mr. Black. And that he thought he could use it for blackmail. That’s the word he used, they tell me.”

A second Headmaster had returned during this recitation and vigorously nodded his head. “Yes, that’s what I heard, too from the shepherd girls on the staircase near the Transfiguration classroom.”

The professors exchanged glances. And then their eyes fixed on Sirius. Dumbledore said quietly.

“Mr. Black, would you please go into my study…no, wait, Mr. Snape is waiting there. Go through that door. We’ll be with you shortly.” 

With a nod, Sirius left and found himself in a small conference room. He slumped at the table, head in hands, and waited for his sentence.

There was a collective sigh around the Headmaster’s office as everyone, humans and portraits alike, seemed to feel the need to flush out their lungs. Dumbledore templed his fingers together and rested the point of his chin on them. He stared into space. The other two seated themselves and mulled over all they had heard. 

Finally, Dumbledore dropped his hands and glanced back and forth between his two professors. “Well, I must say, these boys continue to surprise me.”

McGonagal scowled at the Headmaster. “Surprise?! I’ve never heard a story like this before!”

Faustus nodded his agreement. “These two, Snape and Black. Neither of them will forget what happened tonight. Nor will Lupin, once he knows what Black did.”

McGonagall glared at him. “I’d say he had a certain level of provocation, Ernst!”

“Well, we only have Mr. Black’s word about whatever happened behind the greenhouses.” Faustus’ voice sounded half-hearted.

McGonagall huffed. “You don’t really believe Mr. Snape’s story that he just happened to be out for a stroll in the middle of a cold, January night, and accidentally ran into Mr. Black, who had nothing better to do than lurk behind the greenhouses, on the off chance Mr. Snape might walk by and be tricked into visiting a werewolf?”

“I know there is a history of bad blood between these two and-“

“If I may,” Dumbledore broke in. “I think we need to look at this from several different perspectives. We have evidence of very disturbing incidents that are all interrelated. First, Mr. Snape now knows Mr. Lupin’s secret. Second, we have evidence that Mr. Snape used Mr. Black’s private correspondence in an effort to blackmail him, a detail that Mr. Snape chose not to tell us. Third, we have Mr. Black, who freely admits to sending Mr. Snape into danger, and, at the same time, is quite probably the victim of the grossest sort of abuse by his own parents.”

“That boy is in deep trouble,” Professor Faustus said quietly.

McGonagal’s brows jutted into a sharp promontory. “We’ve just begun discussing this! I think it’s too early to start assigning punishments!”

Faustus looked at her in surprise. “No! No! That’s not what I meant! I meant that Mr. Black is in desperate need of help to deal with this situation.” He turned to Dumbledore. “Surely, Albus, we can’t allow his parents to remove him from school. He deserves punishment for his actions regarding Mr. Snape, but, should his story about his…his sale be true, then I think we are duty-bound to try to protect him.”

“Oh, that goes without saying. I can set some discrete investigations in motion to follow up on the Groot angle. Madame Pomfrey will find out about the potion. That evidence, combined with what Mr. Black has given us will be enough, I suspect, to prevent his parents from removing him from school. That is, unless they want this story to become public.”

“Albus, are **you** threatening blackmail?”

“Blackmail is an ugly word, Minerva. And, I don’t think it applies here. I seek no gain from the Blacks. I wish only to protect their son. If Sirius wants to pursue legal action, I will support him. If all he wants is leverage to allow his schooling to continue at Hogwarts, then I will support that. And, Sirius, I think, has to be the one to decide how this information is handled. The final decision on what to do must remain in his hands.”

“And, if Sirius doesn’t want to pursue it? You’d let his parents get away with that?” McGonagall practically sputtered in disbelief.

“Minerva, if he wants to file a complaint with the Ministry, he runs the risk of making all of this public. If he chooses not to do that, I won’t force him. I think it more important, and more beneficial in the long run, for Sirius to think carefully about his options and realize that the power to decide what course to take is his.”

The others considered this and finally nodded agreement. Dumbledore continued.

“About tonight’s event, here is my thinking. I wish to protect Mr. Lupin, as he is an innocent victim in all of this. We’ll bring Mr. Snape back here and confront him with the new evidence we have and see if he will admit to his less than honorable actions. If he does, I will assign no punishment.” Dumbledore held up his hand to quiet Professor McGonagall, who was starting to fume. 

“I will, however, expel him should Mr. Lupin’s secret be revealed. As I know Mr. Lupin’s friends won’t say anything, any hint of this would have to come from Mr. Snape. I will also expel him should he spread any rumors or information about his knowledge of Mr. Black’s abuse. So, all Mr. Snape has to do to avoid punishment is to keep his mouth shut. Now, as for Mr. Black. It’s quite apparent that he is under considerable emotional upheaval right now. As a result, I believe he did not carry out an elaborate plot, but rather, made a spur-of-the-moment decision in sending Mr. Snape into the tunnel. Because of Mr. Black’s state of mind, and because there were no injuries to anyone involved, I’m inclined to be lenient. I will deduct 300 house points. Minerva, I’d like you to find suitable tasks for a month of detentions, and-“

“Tutoring,” said Faustus emphatically.

At the others’ questioning looks, his face rumpled into a wrinkled smile. “I have several first and second years in my house who are fairly dismal at Transfiguration. As this is one of Mr. Black’s strengths, I’d like to require that he tutor them, in addition to his detentions.”

“A Gryffindor tutoring Slytherins,” Dumbledore mused. “Useful for the Slytherins and annoying for the Gryffindor. It’s perfect. Finally, I will insist that Mr. Black be the one to tell Mr. Lupin about what happened tonight.”

“Mr. Lupin will feel horribly betrayed, Albus,” McGonagall stated. 

“He **was** betrayed, Minerva. It is up to Mr. Black to ask for forgiveness, and it is Mr. Lupin’s right to decide whether or not to grant it.”


	13. Pain

Sirius sat silently, watching Remus sleep. He himself had not had much rest. Upon returning to the dormitory last night, he hadn’t been able to look either James or Peter in the eye. James, sitting in the dorm seething after his talk with Dumbledore, had stoked up his anger in anticipation of verbally pummeling Sirius as soon as he had the chance. The arrival of his best friend back in the dorm set him loose, and his bitter, angry words lacerated Sirius. James got more livid by the second as Sirius said nothing in his own defense. His spiritless demeanor made him a completely unsatisfactory target. James finally gave up, shouting, “I can’t talk to you!” as he stormed off to bed.

Sirius turned to Peter, who had remained silent through James’ tirade. “It’s your turn, Peter.”

The sandy-haired boy merely reached out and touched Sirius’ arm for a second. “Get some sleep, Padfoot.”

Sirius went to bed and spent the night agonizing over how the events of the past few days had gotten so far out of control. 

He walked through his first two classes of the day like a zombie. And, now, here he sat in the Hospital in his free hour before lunch, watching Remus sleep. Remus looked paler than he usually did after a full moon. Sirius wondered about the injuries he couldn’t see beneath the pajamas and the bedclothes. And he dreaded the moment those beautiful hazel eyes would open and focus on him, and the brilliant light in them would turn cold as stone. 

Remus stirred. And his beautiful hazel eyes opened and focused on Sirius, their gaze sharpening, scrutinizing, as if Remus sought to etch every detail of that face into his brain. The silence stretched out until finally Remus said, his voice scratchy, “You look like hell.”

“I…I know. And I feel like hell.” He couldn’t say any more. Remus was finally willing to talk to him, and now he had to tell him what he had done.

“I have something to tell you, Remus.” His mouth snapped shut by itself; as if his own body rebelled against the hurt he was about to cause. Remus’ expression became wary at the distress he saw in Sirius’ face. Well, maybe now he’d find out about this other person. If Sirius was here to dump him, then fine. Remus wished he’d stop stalling and just get on with it. 

Sirius twisted in his chair, his long frame suddenly all angles and corners, unable to fit comfortably.

He curled in on himself, hunched over and started talking to the floor. “I did a terrible thing last night, Remus. The worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. I did it because I was angry and hurt and that’s no excuse, not for this, not something like this and I know you’ll never forgive me and I don’t deserve forgiveness because this is just so awful and I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry I’d do anything to take it back, to go back in time and stop it but it’s too late, it’s… too late, it’s…I’m sorry.”

Alarmed, Remus struggled upright, ignoring the sharp twinges of pain in his abused joints. Sirius was disintegrating before his eyes. What could he have possibly done to cause this kind of torment? 

“Sirius…this isn’t about that other person, is it? The one you…the one who…” Remus flicked one hand towards Sirius in a vague acknowledgement of the marks left by the unknown’s teeth. 

“No, not directly,” Sirius slowly shook his head. Remus winced at his words, which admitted the existence of a rival. Sirius saw it and his hands gripped the chair arms so tightly Remus wondered why they didn’t splinter apart. Sirius again bowed his head, not looking at Remus. His ragged, uneven breathing was loud in the silence that had fallen, and Remus realized that Sirius was struggling not to cry.

Annoyance flared through Remus’ own distress. ‘What right does he have to be so upset, when he’s the one who’s going to hurt me?’

He snapped, “For Christ’s sake, Sirius, stop sniveling and just spit it out!”

Sirius flinched. It gave Remus a certain sick satisfaction to know that he could cause hurt, too. 

And then Sirius crushed him. “I told Snape how to get into the Willow.”

Remus was sure he’d misunderstood, as his brain tried to reject what this message meant. Sirius drove it home like a knife between his ribs. “I told him, and then I showed him, and he went in last night. James saw what I did and pulled him out, but not before he saw you. He knows and it’s my fault and I’m so sorry.”

Remus was stunned. This was the last thing he expected to hear. He waited for more, something, an explanation, a quirk of the lips to indicate it was a joke, a sick joke, maybe, but a joke nonetheless. But, no, Sirius’ expression didn’t change. It was real. He meant it. Remus had never felt pain like this before.

“How could you…why would…why did you do this to me!?” Remus’ voice rose to a shout.

Madame Pomfrey appeared at the far end of the room, sailing towards them in high dudgeon over this disturbance of her realm.

“Remus, I’m sorry, I was just so angry over everything that happened, I wasn’t thinking straight any more. I would never, ever have told anyone-“

”But, you did! Damn you, Sirius, you did tell!”

“Boys! Mr. Black, you’ll have to leave! Mr. Lupin, get back in bed this instance!”

“Remus, please. I-“

Remus’ face was seared with pain and anger. “You bastard! You fucking bastard! Get out!”

Sirius fled. 

All the residual pain from Remus’ transformation shot through his tired body. He allowed himself to be helped back under the covers, and then curled on his side, brushing off any more attention. Madame Pomfrey’s footsteps faded as she went back to her office. Remus stared at the wall, while the aches in his body subsided and his heart slowly crumbled. 

He didn’t understand. They had been happy, so deliriously happy through the long, golden autumn and into the dark of winter. And now, after a separation of a few weeks over the holidays, Sirius came back a different person. Remus had been braced to hear of another boyfriend; he hadn’t expected Sirius to cut his very legs off. He felt mutilated.

“Remus? May I speak with you?” The calm tones of Albus Dumbledore couldn’t stop his heart from bleeding. But, Remus slowly rolled over to look at the Headmaster.

“Madame Pomfrey tells me that you and Sirius did not have a very fruitful conversation.”

Remus didn’t want to talk about Sirius. He scowled and turned his head away. “I guess it depends on what you mean by fruitful. He managed to get his point across before he left.”

Dumbledore sighed. Bitterness like this was for old men and women wearied from a lifetime of pain. It should never come from the heart of such a young man.

“I think perhaps Sirius is too overwhelmed by what has happened to him over the last few days to think clearly, let alone to provide you with cogent explanations. Perhaps I can shed a little more light on why he has done something so unthinkable.” 

He settled back in the chair so recently vacated by Remus’ betrayer and started to talk.

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~** ~

“These scarab beetles aren’t ground up enough. They have to be a fine powder.” James slid the mortar and pestle back to Sirius. 

“Oh.” 

James sighed. Luckily, the Wound Disinfectant potion they were working on, while requiring the preparation of loads of ingredients, was not terribly challenging in its execution. James had asked Lily to partner Peter, so he’d be free to partner with Sirius. James’ anger had long since vanished. He was now growing more and more worried about his friend’s emotional state. Sirius was completely disengaged, to the point that the instructions for preparing the potion written on the blackboard didn’t register at all and he relied completely on James to tell him what to do. James had hoped to get his friend to open up about what was wrong, but Sirius had retreated behind a blank wall.

They managed to get through Potions without any mishaps. As they left the classroom to head towards Muggle Studies, James nodded at Peter. The two fell into step on either side of Sirius and, each grabbing an arm, turned and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

Sirius jerked his arms, but couldn’t shake them off. “What are you doing? We’re going the wrong way!”

“We’re going back to the dorms, and this is obviously the right way to get there!” James tightened his grip and moved forcefully down the corridors.

Sirius dug in his heels and tried to twist away from them. “Leave me alone! I’m not talking about what happened!”

Peter hung on tight to the arm struggling madly for release and said gravely, “We think you need to, Sirius.”

And, James chimed in with just the right level of concern and accusation. “Besides, you owe us an explanation.”

Sirius stopped fighting at that and was silent for the rest of the walk back.

The three stood in a loose circle in the middle of their bedroom. Sirius didn’t say anything for a long time. He looked past them into middle distance, not really focusing on anything. 

James reached out and gently gripped Sirius’ shoulder. “What’s happened to you?”

Sirius suddenly sat on the edge of the nearest bed. It was as if his legs had simply given out, as had his heart and whatever inner strength that used to sustain him. He was just too tired to put up any more resistance. Speaking in a quiet, uninflected voice, Sirius related the events of his holidays and what had happened at school as quickly as he could get through it. He still couldn’t bring himself to at look them while he spoke. He didn’t want to see shock or anger or revulsion. He had enough of his own to deal with; he couldn’t carry anyone else’s. When he finished, there was total silence. 

Until finally James burst out, “You don’t have to go back there! Ever! You can stay at my house when we’re not in school. My parents won’t mind. You know they love you.” 

He suddenly bit his lip, realizing that perhaps speaking of parents and love in the same breath was not going to make Sirius feel any better. Peter jumped in. “Yeah, and you know you’re always welcome at my house. When James drives you mad, just tell him to go stuff himself and Floo over to my house.”

For the first time in days, the ghost of a smile appeared on Sirius’ lips. “Thank you.”

It flickered out in the next second as Sirius said,” But, Remus… He’ll never trust me again. He’ll never forgive me. I keep going over it again and again in my mind and I don’t understand how I could have done it. I don’t know…”

Bracingly, James said, “Look, mate. He’s hurt and angry with you now. But, that’ll pass. I know it will. You two are so good together. It can’t simply end, can it?”

Sirius lurched to his feet and walked to the window. “Yes, it can.”

The other boys exchanged a look and followed Sirius to stand on either side of him. “Sirius, it’ll take some time, for sure, but-“

“Don’t!” Sirius broke into Peter’s words. “Just don’t. I appreciate that you’re both trying to help, but right now I need to think about this. By myself.” He leaned his elbows on the sill, shutting them out. James glanced at Peter and shrugged. They left.

When he heard their footsteps fade and the sound of the door closing, Sirius wearily rested his forehead against the cold glass. His thoughts flashed pictures in his mind. Snape’s eyes, burning like coals. Remus’ face crumpling with the pain he had caused. His father’s vicious smile. Groot’s crooked teeth and lumpy body. He shuddered to remember the touch of that flesh and how he had burned and begged to receive it. 

The tears Sirius had smothered for days on end burst out of him and did not help at all to ease the hollow, echoing ache in his heart. Nothing, no one could help him with that. And, so he cried for a long time, standing alone by the window. More than anything he wanted comfort, but knew he didn’t deserve it. 

He didn’t hear the door open, but the click of its closing sounded loud in the room. Sirius stood absolutely still, choking his tears, willing James or Peter to just go away and leave him alone again. 

Footsteps approached behind him. And Remus’ quiet voice floated over his shoulder. “I need to talk to talk to you, Sirius.”

Sirius straightened up and stood rigidly still, desperately trying to get a grip on his emotions. He nodded once, and mumbled, “Okay.”

“Dumbledore came and told me exactly happened. I’ve thought about it all afternoon. I wanted you to know that I can understand, at least a little, why it happened. Why you told Snape.” He paused, his eyes raking up and down Sirius’ still form, noticing the unnaturally stiff posture. 

“But, I’m still angry. I’m angry with you. And, I’m angry with me, too, that I wouldn’t let you explain. Maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently.” He fell silent. Sirius knew he should say something, but he didn’t trust his voice not to betray his emotions. 

Remus’ soft voice continued. “Sirius, I’ll never, ever forget what you did to me. But, I can also forgive you, because I can’t simply rip all the feelings I have for you out of my…You know, this would be a lot easier if I could see your face while I talk to you. Please turn around.”

Remus saw Sirius raise his hands quickly to his face. They dropped to his sides and he slowly turned, as if facing an executioner. Remus saw damp patches high on the front of Sirius’ robe. He noted the long, thick eyelashes clumped together with moisture. The fine skin at the corners of those beautiful, haunted eyes glistened with the remains of tears that Sirius had not quite wiped away. 

Remus’ cool resolve cracked. Slowly he stepped closer. He reached out and ran his thumbs over the wet skin, murmuring, “You missed a spot.” Gently, he brushed the tears away, but more followed, running over his fingers and against his hands and, finally into his shoulder as he pulled Sirius into his arms and held him tight while he wept once more. Sirius’ arms locked tight around his body and Remus felt suddenly that no power could pull them apart, if they both stood firm.

With a deep, shuddering sigh, Sirius finally relaxed his hold somewhat and raised his head from Remus’ now soggy shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know you weren’t finished with everything you wanted to say to me.”

“Yeah. Well, can we sit down? I’m still kind of tired.”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. I’m not thinking clearly-“

“And stop beginning everything you say with an apology,” Remus chided gently.

“Sorry. I mean, okay, I’ll try to stop, but…God, Remus this is so hard. It’s all so tangled up and confused and…and out of control.”

Remus walked over to Sirius’ bed and proceeded to gather up the pillows and add them to the pile on his own bed. Once he had created a soft mound against the headboard, he stretched out, reclining against it with a sigh. He patted the mattress and Sirius sat gingerly next to him. 

“When’s the last time you got any sleep, Paddy?”

Sirius glanced at him, not quite daring to accept Remus had called him that. Not quite ready to believe that Remus still loved him. But, although the face in front of him was weary from the depredations of the full moon and from the emotional turmoil he himself had caused, there was gentle affection in his eyes. And concern at what he saw in Sirius’ face.

“Friday night. I’ve only caught snatches of sleep since then. I look that bad, huh?”

“You look horrible.”

A small silence fell, and Sirius wanted to say something, anything to prevent this fragile bridge between them from falling apart. But, it was Remus who tentatively moved to the next subject. “I’m sorry I wouldn’t let you explain things yesterday morning. It would probably have saved us all a lot of pain. But, why didn’t you tell me what happened when we were at the station or on the train, or later, when we got back here? I knew something was wrong. I could see it in your face. Why wouldn’t you talk to me?”

There was nothing for it but to tell everything. It was the only way to rid himself of the lingering effects of the poisoned brew his parents had fed him, the rancid emotions into which they had plunged him.

“I knew you’d ask about the potion. And I didn’t want to tell you what it was like or what I did after I drank it.”

“You didn’t know they gave it to you. It’s not your fault for whatever happened later.”

“Yeah, maybe. There was a small part of me, the real me, at the back of my mind. And I was screaming, screaming at them for what they had done to me. And screaming at myself, the big part of me that didn’t care, that didn’t see it, that only wanted to be fucked by that disgusting, slobbering pig.” 

Sirius’ voice broke. Hands clenched into fists, his whole body vibrated with suppressed emotion. But, Remus hardly noticed. His gaze was riveted on Sirius’ face, which was awash with a self-loathing so stark it seemed etched into his bones. “I wouldn’t listen to myself, Remus, because I wanted him so bad. I did whatever he wanted as soon as he snapped his fingers. When he told me to get on my knees, I flung myself on the floor. When he wanted me face down on the bed with my arse raised up for him, I scrambled to get in position. When he wanted me to beg for it, plead and moan and beg for him to fuck me, I did it. Because I wanted to. I wanted **him** and **that’s** all that mattered. Not that my parents had sold me. Not that I was betraying you. My whole world centered on doing whatever he demanded so that he’d reward me with his cock. I was completely his, his property, his whore. And I liked it.”

Remus had leaned forward halfway through this recitation, wanting to interrupt again to say that it wasn’t Sirius’ fault. He hated seeing that handsome face twisted with such self-revulsion. But, something told him it was better to let Sirius talk. And there was something in his bitter words that struck a chord. 

As soon as Sirius fell silent, Remus started speaking. “You felt like the real you was trapped in your mind?”

“Yes,” Sirius whispered, his shame preventing him from looking at Remus. Now Remus would see how despicable he was. He couldn’t possible want anything to do with him after this.

“And, the real Sirius had been stripped of his power to control his own thoughts, his own feelings, his own body?”

“Yes.”

“All you could do was watch and scream while your control was wrested from you and given over to something else?”

“Yes.”

“Well, now you have a better idea of what it’s like to be a werewolf.” Remus settled back onto his pillows. “Every time I transform, there is still a small part of me, the human me, that struggles to regain control from the wolf. That’s the part that knows I’m a monster and that knows the monster has more strength at that moment than I do. And I know I can’t win. I can see and feel what’s happening, and there isn’t a thing I can do to change it.”

“But, there’s a difference, Remus.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve never wanted to be a monster. I gloried in it.”

Remus shook his head. “No, you didn’t. Not the real Sirius. The real you was horrified. But some things are stronger than we are. Why do you think love potions are so closely regulated? Sirius, it was not your fault!”

They lapsed into silence, Sirius staring into space, Remus staring at Sirius’ profile. He decided to broach one more subject. “Dumbledore hinted that he thinks he’ll be able to ensure your parents won’t take you out of Hogwarts.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, that’s what he told me. I’m supposed to see him tomorrow to go over the options on how to handle this. Since I’ll be seventeen soon, legally they won’t be able to force me to come home. Although, maybe ‘home’ isn’t the right word for that place.”

Remus shifted sideways, creating more space next to him. Then he reached out with one arm. “Come here,” he whispered. Sirius looked at him, his eyes full of questions and a fragile hope. Remus’ upraised hand steadily beckoned and finally, Sirius surrendered to its command and curled next to Remus, snaking his arms around the slender waist, pillowing his head on Remus’ shoulder. The tenderness of Remus’ fingers slowly carding through his hair or stroking up and down his back soothed and comforted like no other touch in the world. It was the last thing Sirius was conscious of before he fell asleep.

There was a quiet tap at the bedroom door. Remus ignored it. The door opened slowly to admit James and Peter. Remus put a finger to his lips. They nodded and smiled, taking the sight of the two entwined on the bed as a positive development. James started to make exaggerated gestures in some sort of pantomime that had something to do with putting sticks into large round things and then putting something from the round things into his pockets. He had Remus completely befuddled until Peter quickly scooped a piece of parchment out of his bag, and scrawled on it ‘Should we bring some food back for you?’

Remus smiled and nodded, mouthing, ‘Thank you.’

James glared at Peter for neatly putting an end to his arm-waving theatrics. Then he shrugged at Remus, and the two left for dinner. Remus closed his eyes, wondering where he and Sirius would be in one, two or five years. Would they still be together? Would they be able to trust completely in one another again? Would this whole experience make them stronger? Remus fervently hoped so. He settled his arms around the relaxed body of his sleeping lover, and held him tight, letting his mind wander in the darkening room.


	14. Shooting Stars

Sirius sat quietly in Dumbledore's office. He had declined the Headmaster's offers of tea, scones, and lemon drops. He looked for all the world like someone waiting patiently for a train. There wasn't a hint of anxiety or upset or fear on his face. Although Albus would never say so aloud, he found the preternaturally impassive face of the teen disturbing. The Hogwarts staff had known for years that that face could effortlessly hide any trace of guilt or pleasure over a well-executed prank. What had become all too evident over the past week was that hurt and confusion were also so well masked that none of them had realized just how poisonous the relationship between Sirius and his parents had become. They had been kept in the dark, and thus, had not been able to offer help until events had erupted with potentially lethal consequences.

Albus' thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the spiral staircase. They stood. Albus looked once more at the calm face. "Sirius, remember. If, at any time you wish to end this meeting, say so and I will escort your father out."

"Yes, sir."

The door opened and Hadar Black stalked into the room, sartorially splendid in deep burgundy robes. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of his son, and his upper lip curled.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Mr. Black," Dumbledore began. "I know this last-minute meeting may have-"

"It has seriously disrupted my schedule for this weekend. However, as I needed to speak to you anyway regarding my son's future education, it's just as well we can do this with one meeting."

"Please be seated." Dumbledore said, settling back on his chair. Sirius sat, also. "May I offer you-"

"There is no need for the niceties, Dumbledore." Hadar hadn't budged from his stance in the middle of the room. "I won't be staying long and I intend to take Sirius home with me."

"You're being a bit hasty."

"Hasty? I should have removed him long ago!" Hadar turned to Sirius. "And what sort of idiocy did you involve yourself in **this** time, that you managed to get a **month** of detentions?"

Not a flicker of emotion crossed Sirius' face. "I put two students in mortal danger."

"You…you…what?! Are you dragging people across the rooftops on one of your climbing escapades? What is wrong with you? What sort of madness is this?"

"Actually, it was anger." Sirius replied. He seemed completely unruffled by his father's growing annoyance.

"Is that so? Well, I can believe it, after seeing your outburst when you came home for Christmas." Turning to Dumbledore, Hadar missed the tension that momentarily gripped his son's body. "Sirius has become increasingly prone to ugly displays of temper over the past year or so. I had hoped it was simply a teenage phase, but now I see that stern measures must be taken, and I know from past experience that he will not receive that sort of guidance and correction here at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore said nothing. Sirius picked up the thread of his explanation. "I was angry because someone had stolen the note that Anders Groot sent to me. The note that detailed what a lovely time he had with me in his bed and how he hoped that I could continue to be part of the gentlemen's agreements between the two of you."

Hadar froze, his pale blue eyes boring into his son's face. He whispered slowly, "What kind of sick fantasies are you spinning?" 

Sirius didn't so much as blink as he returned the look. "Of course, he didn't mention the love potion in the note, but I have proof of that, too."

Hadar snarled, "I don't know what sort of scheme you've dreamed up, my lad, but it won't work." He turned back to Dumbledore, his cold words snapping like sleet against a window. "Surely you realize that Sirius would do just about anything to remain at Hogwarts. And he's devious enough to plot something quite ingenious, no matter how vulgar and hurtful it might be to his parents."

He rounded on Sirius, his barely held temper starting to get the best of him. "How can you sit there and make these gross accusations? When all your mother and I have ever wanted for you is a secure and happy future?"

Sirius leaped to his feet, his calm mask cracking. "Happy future?! You never cared about my happiness. All you ever wanted was for me to be under your boot heel, worshipping at the altar of Les Etoiles!"

"Don't you dare speak to me in that tone!" Hadar advance towards Sirius, his hand raised.

"Mr. Black!" The Headmaster's voice cracked like a whip. He had shot to his feet, wand drawn. "I will not permit you to strike your son."

Hadar drew a quick breath and yanked his emotions back under control. "No, no, of course. I wouldn't have touched him. But, you see, Dumbledore, you see the kind of temper he has."

Dumbledore's icy expression did not alter. He said, waving a hand to indicate the various items on his desk, "I also see the various pieces of evidence I have gathered that support Sirius' story. Perhaps it's time for you to take a look at them."

Hadar Black's eyes flicked back and forth between Sirius and the Headmaster. Then he crossed to the desk and snatched up the first piece of paper, the note Sirius received from Groot. "This doesn't prove anything. Sirius probably had one of his friends write this!"

"Then you'd best look at the letter Mr. Groot sent to me in response to my enquiries. As you can see, the handwriting is the same, and his story agrees with Sirius'. Here are two reports from London cabbies, one who distinctly remembers driving the two of you to Mr. Groot's apartment last Saturday, and one who remembers driving a teenage boy from that same apartment to King's Cross station on Sunday. The boy's trunk and caged owl made something of an impression on the fellow. Oh, and when you're done with that, here is an analysis of the ingredients of the potion that Sirius was given without his knowledge. The combination of some of those items smacks of Dark Magic, Mr. Black. Some of them are, in fact, quite illegal."

Hadar made no response, but quickly went through the pages of the evidence. Sirius stood silent, watching his father's face intently. When he was through, Hadar stared blindly at the desktop. Finally he said, "What do you intend to do with this, Headmaster?"

"Sirius," Dumbledore said. "What have you decided?"

Hadar whipped around to fix his piercing stare on his son. Identical eyes fired right back at him, and Dumbledore sensed sadly that the space between them was now so wide a gulf that no bridge would ever span it again. Neither Black said a word or moved a muscle, until finally Sirius spoke. "I will keep that evidence in my possession and will not make any of it public, unless you try to force me to leave Hogwarts. Once I'm seventeen, you have no legal right to drag me home, so I'll be free to finish my education here. When I have graduated, I'll destroy all of it."

For the first time since he had arrived, Hadar Black smiled. "You'll make it public? You'll announce to the world that you're hardly more than a whore? Oh, Sirius, I don't think so."

Sirius smiled back, and for the first time in his life, Hadar saw that, in some ways, his son was just like him. He realized that Sirius would trade viciousness for viciousness, and that, even if this brought him down, he was ready to pay that price to take his father down with him. Like any good businessman, Hadar Black knew when it was time to cut his losses.

"Are you sure that's the way you want it? If you don't come home with me now, you had better plan on making other living arrangements. I will disown you, Sirius."

Sirius didn't answer. He simply bent down and retrieved a box that had been on the floor by his chair. "Then you'd better take these back. I don't want to be accused of stealing anything from you."

Hadar opened the box. Inside was every piece of jewelry that he had ever given to Sirius. 

His face a mask Hadar turned towards the door. "It seems as if our business is over. I wash my hands of my son's actions in the future."

"You are still legally his guardian, as he is not yet of age, Hadar. I will continue to send you whatever communications that Hogwarts requires to be sent to a student's parents."

"I've told you I'm disowning him. I'll simply throw your letters out." He opened the door and paused, staring back over his shoulder at the implacable face of his son.

Sirius merely said, "You can simply throw out whatever is in my room, too. You might as well complete what you started."

Hadar Black walked out, slamming the door behind him. Sirius closed his eyes for a long moment.

"Are you alright, Sirius? Do you wish to talk further about this?"

Slowly, as if dragging his attention from something infinitely more interesting, Sirius faced the Headmaster. His face was no longer impassive. It was stark and wounded with his flayed emotions. "You know, hating my father has never been a goal in my life. And, I'd like to believe that his hating me wasn't part of his original plan. I still don't understand why he did it. Can you explain that? Can you explain why? Can you explain how the two of us got to this point?"

Great sympathy swam in the twinkling blue eyes as Professor regarded student. "There are no easy answers, Sirius. I've seen families split apart under less strain than that which has grown between you and your father. Sometimes it's a matter of misunderstanding piled on top of miscommunication. Sometimes the personalities involved simply do not mesh. Throw in hurt and anger and vulnerability and the breaking of trust, and suddenly, a chasm separates those who should be together."

Dumbledore knew his reply was inadequate. Sirius knew it, too. He answered his own questions. "I didn't think so."

He gathered up the letters and reports on Dumbledore's desk and followed his father's footsteps out the door.

When he reached the bottom of the spiral staircase he heard, "Pssst!" The door across the hall was partially open. Inside he found James, Peter and Remus waiting for him. 

"Well?" James asked. "What happened? Are you staying?"

"Yeah. I'm staying."

Listening to their babble of relief and support brought a small smile to Sirius' face. It helped him realize that he wasn't totally adrift in the world.

~ **~** ~ **~** ~ **~**

Remus' eyes slowly opened to the cool, dark night, which was easy to ignore in the nice, warm bed. He must have drifted off for a moment. He was rather surprised that Sirius hadn't poked a sharp finger into his ribs for his rudeness, as they had been talking about classes. He turned over only to find still-warm sheets, but no body lying next to him. A sudden heat in his groin reminded him of how much he wanted 

that body. They had been steadily repairing the damage that had strained their bond, but sex hadn't yet entered into it. Remus wasn't at all sure Sirius wanted sex just yet, although to be fair, Sirius 

had been so emotionally and physically exhausted over the past few days that he could barely keep his eyes open once his head hit the pillow. 

Remus waited patiently for Sirius to return, but when several long minutes had passed, he got up in search of his missing bedmate. Sirius wasn't in the dorm room or the bathroom. Standing on the stairs, Remus pondered where he might have gone, his concern starting to grow, as Sirius was still somewhat emotionally shaky after his father's visit this morning. 

Then Remus noticed cold air coming down the stairs. `Oh, no. Why now? Why tonight, in the middle of January?' Slipping back into the dorm room, Remus quietly put on some clothes and grabbed a cloak. Then he climbed to the top of the stairs in Gryffindor Tower, to the partially opened window. Easing it wide enough for him to scramble out onto the ledge, Remus gingerly sidled his way up and onto the 

roof.

And, there he was. Perched precariously on the pitched roof, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the night sky. Remus balanced uneasily next to him. "Tell me again why you won't go to the Astronomy Tower to 

look at the stars?"

"Too many people snogging in the dark."

"At least none of them are crazy enough to crawl across ice and snow to cling to these uncomfortable seats, where, if you lean over too far, you'll slide right off the roof!"

Remus could just make out Sirius' wistful smile in the starlight. "I can't see the stars in London, Remus. There's too much light from the city. Only the very brightest stars can be seen there."

"The very brightest star isn't in London. He's chilling his arse on a roof at Hogwarts."

Sirius chuckled quietly. "That's my Moony. Sentimental and prosaic at the same time."

"Prosaic? I hardly think there's anything banal about risking life and limb to watch the night sky!"

"Stop complaining and just look. There's a meteor shower tonight."

Remus' vision acclimated to the dark. With every second, more and more stars became visible, dusting across the midnight sky. And soon, he was able to pick out the fiery tails of light searing the heavens. They sat close together, the trails of shooting stars reflecting in their upturned eyes.

As the shower neared its end, Remus leaned over to kiss Sirius gently on the cheek. His lips caressed a leisurely path to the corner of Sirius' mouth. Slowly the dark head turned towards him. Their breath mingled in a translucent cloud which disappeared entirely once their mouths slid together in a teasing, soothing hungry kiss. Drawing breath, Remus murmured against Sirius' lips. "Come inside. Come to bed with me." Sirius nodded and nudged Remus towards the window. Carefully, they clambered back in, tiptoed to their room, shucked off their clothes and burrowed into the warm cocoon of their shared bed. 

Remus briefly reinforced the silencing charms and then set several balls of blue flame glowing above them. At Sirius' questioning look, he said simply, "I want to see you." 

A shadow flitted across Sirius' face but he made no protest as Remus drew the covers down. Sitting next to Sirius' prone form Remus ran his hands slowly from mid-thigh up across the smooth skin of his belly, coasting across the muscled chest to gently cradle the dark head in his palms. Shifting ever so slowly, Remus straddled his lover and eased down on top of him. Flesh to flesh, the warmth of their bodies surrounded them, driving away winter's cold. Remus' mouth pressed against Sirius', his tongue seeking and finding its partner. They kissed for long, timeless minutes, wrapped up in the feel and taste of each other. Remus felt lean, strong fingers spidering across his back, curling into his hair. He felt fiery fingers of desire tracing through his body, tugging at his nerves, teasing into his groin. 

With a moan he lifted his head, rose on his elbows to look down at Sirius, drinking in the sight of the fathomless eyes and the parted lips still marked from his kiss. Remus bent his neck and his lips sought the fading marks that still stood out darkly against the pale neck and shoulders. Gently he kissed each bruise, as if sucking the poison out of a wound and replacing it with a healing benediction.

"Re…oh, Remus…" came a sigh of half-pain, half-pleasure. 

"Shhhh…It's alright.." His mouth caught Sirius' and once more their kiss melded them together as if the flesh of their lips, their tongues, their bodies was each part of the other. Drunk. They were drunk on the very taste of each other and that fed their desire to touch more, to feel deeper. Remus' heated passion flared uncontrolled, like a flame flashing across dry wood, his body impatient to possess Sirius, to drive away memories and thoughts of any other person who had dared to defile him. Remus panted out words 

of love and gasped his adoration of the perfect body that Sirius gave to him so freely. 

And once inside, his cock thrusting deep into that silken sheath Remus still would not abandon himself to his own pleasure with no regard for his lover. He would not take without giving. He would not sate his own desire without doing his utmost to fulfill Sirius' needs. His movements stroked and scraped against the sweet spot inside his lover, making him moan with pleasure. Sirius arched up to meet Remus thrust for thrust. Faster and harder their bodies moved until, with a final wild push, they came together in a mad, trembling clench. Remus' eyes shut tight and still he saw the trails of stars 

flash across his darkened vision. 

As their heart rates dropped back down, Remus slid to one side, tugging Sirius with him. He extinguished the balls of flame. He pulled the heavy bedclothes over them. Wrapped up in sheets and comforter and safely in each other's arms, the nightmares of the past week were driven away, at least for a little while. They both knew that things would never be quite the same, but their love for each other would survive.. Sirius once again fell asleep to the soothing beat of Remus' heart, and the delicate touch of Remus' fingers in his hair. This was now his home, and there was no place in the world more perfect.

And Remus understood Sirius more clearly. He had seen more raw pain and anger and hurt in Sirius over the past few days than had ever been evident before. He saw complexities and tangled emotions and frailties. And he understood that Sirius was fighting his battles as best he could, just as Remus himself fought his own curse. Each was a danger and a blessing to the other. Remus listened to Sirius' quiet, regular breathing and vowed that their love would not burn out in a brief, blazing trail, but would endure, deep and permanent and constant, like the brightest stars in the midnight sky.

END


End file.
